Elemental Forces
by augmentedfourth
Summary: Two mages fall in love in Kirkwall, but persecution and political tensions threaten to tear them apart. Bethany/Anders, with some M!Hawke/Isabela on the side. Complete!
1. A Pair of Prologues

Bethany was sure the color of her cheeks was as bright as the flames that exploded from the tip of her staff. It had been Isabela's intent, of course; the pirate took great joy in her attempts to make her younger companion blush. Her teasing was usually good-natured, and the two were friends. Their friendship, however, had little effect on the mage's current embarrassment.

In many ways, they were complete opposites. While the Hawke family had spent close to two decades hiding their daughter's magic, Isabela had been sailing the open seas as the captain of her own ship. She was witty, outspoken, and confident – all traits that had not escaped the notice of either Bethany or her older brother. There was also no denying her devastating beauty and sultry magnetism.

It was her unrepentant sex appeal that had piqued Bethany's interest the most. The candid way in which she discussed her lascivious affairs had initially surprised her. She'd been torn between voicing her shock at the more tawdry tales and secretly wanting to hear more. The offer to borrow some of Isabela's more scandalous books had been politely declined, if for no other reason than she cringed at the thought of her mother investigating such reading material. On the other hand, she had listened attentively to the comparisons between men and women and their various talents, and had even asked the occasional question at the appropriate times.

In retrospect, Bethany really shouldn't have been surprised when the questions were turned back on her. They had been traveling along the Wounded Coast for some sort of job Garrett had taken. Anyone who dared attack them was disposed of quickly with a combination of blades and magic. Between these brief battles, Isabela had resumed her usual risqué chatter, much to the elder Hawke's amusement. As she was describing a love triangle that had ended in a knife fight, she spotted a locked chest nearly hidden beneath the sand at the side of the trail.

There was no pause in her story as she knelt beside it and picked at the lock with one of her daggers. Once it ended, she abruptly switched away from the topic of her own exploits. "So how many men have you been with?" she casually asked the lone female member of her audience.

Bethany was caught completely off-guard. "I…I haven't…I mean…" she sputtered.

"You're a virgin?" Isabela raised an inquisitive eyebrow before a grin spread across her face. "That's adorable!"

The salty breeze drifting from the seas did nothing to soothe the mage's fiery cheeks, and she still struggled to find suitable words. With one last twist of the dagger, the lock popped open with an audible click, and Isabela opened the lid of the chest. She retrieved a handful of coins and passed them up to Garrett, who was standing behind her. "Your sister is precious," she cooed at him. "Clearly she didn't get that from you."

He laughed. "If you were looking for someone chaste and pure, I'm afraid I can't be of any service to you."

"I'm sure you have plenty of other services to offer…."

"I don't want to intrude, but can we move along?" Anders, the fourth member of their party, had been silent throughout the entire exchange until this point. "I'd hate to be out here after nightfall. Maker knows what could be lurking about, waiting for us."

Isabela stood up and sighed in mock irritation. "I suppose we should get going. Besides, the faster we get out of here, the faster we can continue this conversation over a drink at The Hanged Man."

Bethany was silently grateful for Anders's interruption, but she didn't dare look over at him to thank him. She breathed deeply in an effort to restore her pulse to its original pace and her face to its original hue. It was bad enough that the details of her personal life – or lack thereof – had been revealed in front of her brother, but why did she feel so strange knowing they had been heard by Anders?

* * *

Sleep didn't come easy for the apostate healer. Anders frequently found the blissful escape difficult to obtain with everything that weighed on his mind. Some of his burdens were entirely of his own doing, but it was not the plight of the mages or the voice of Justice that kept him awake this night.

It had only been several weeks since Garrett Hawke had barged into his clinic, demanding maps to the Deep Roads. Along with a considerably more diplomatic dwarf, Varric, he had been accompanied by his younger sister. One look at Bethany had stirred something in Anders, reminding him of more carefree times, if only for a fleeting moment. She was serenely beautiful, but even her shy smile couldn't distract him from his more pressing concerns for very long.

Her magical talents had been revealed to him in due time – he hesitated to refer to it as a gift, for he knew all too well how much of a curse they could also be. In some ways, he was immensely jealous of her. He'd managed to sneak a few private conversations with her in the travels led by her brother, and he'd learned of her family's efforts to keep her from the Circle. Her father, also an apostate, had trained her well, and she was one of the most skilled mages he had ever come across.

To describe her as innocent and naïve would not be correct, and Anders had been forced to change his initial perceptions of her. She had seen more than her fair share of death and destruction, and was no stranger to the cruelties of Thedas. He'd seen her kill, and she felt no remorse for the lives that were ended by her hand. Despite all the unfair experiences crammed into her relatively short life, she had maintained a sweet, positive demeanor, fully earning the nickname of "Sunshine" from Varric.

The more time he spent with her, the more time he _wanted_ to spend with her. At night, after his last patient had left his clinic and he was alone once more, his thoughts sometimes wandered to the kind-hearted mage. Since taking the spirit of Justice into his body, he had blocked himself off to the idea of any sort of deep relationship. The Hawkes' entrance into his life had intruded on his relative solitude, and he began to question his decision to reject any friendly offerings from the people of Kirkwall.

Anders stoked the fire in an attempt to ensure that it would keep him warm throughout the night. The flickering flames provided the only light in the room as he slipped beneath the covers of his simple cot and watched the shadows on the walls for a few more moments. He hoped the voice of Justice would stay silent long enough for him to get a few hours of sleep, and he pulled the blanket over his head.

When he closed his eyes, it was not the visions of the suffering refugees or the imprisoned mages that appeared to him. Bethany's face floated in his subconscious, her inquisitive brown eyes probing into him. The dark waves that framed her cheekbones spilled onto her bare shoulders, a stark contrast to the expanse of creamy white skin below the red scarf she always wore. Beyond that, the neckline of her blouse dipped dangerously low, the fabric stretched tight around her body and….

"_She is a fellow mage. She is to be protected, not exploited._"

The thought that seared through him wasn't entirely his. Anders chose not to argue with the other being that shared his physical form. He exhaled loudly and rolled over, bunching the pillow beneath his head in an effort to find a comfortable position. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to push away everything that troubled him and tore at his soul, and waited for sleep to overtake him.


	2. Restless

_Gentle strains of music wafted up the stairs, trickling through the arched hallways like a lilting breeze. The upbeat melodies mingled with the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses. Invited guests filled the rooms on the lower level of the estate, gathered to partake in a fine celebration. _

_ Bethany was sequestered from the downstairs events, joined only by her mother. The room was lavishly furnished and decorated with intricate tapestries. Leandra stood behind her youngest child, brushing out the tangles in her chestnut hair. The pair was arranged in front of a large mirror, and Bethany could see the joyous smile on her mother's face. It had been so long since she had seen her mother so happy, and the sight warmed her heart. _

_ "Is everybody here?" she asked. _

_ "Of course, dear." Leandra set the brush down on a solid wooden vanity and picked up a pair of jewel-encrusted barrettes. _

_ "But how did they know where to find us?"_

_ "This is our home. This is where our family belongs."_

_ Bethany smoothed down the skirt of her white lace dress. "Our family? What about Father? And Carver?"_

_ "They're waiting for us downstairs." The first clip snapped into place above Bethany's left ear. "Everyone's waiting for you."_

_ She sat patiently while the second adornment was fastened on the opposite side. "Can we go see them? I've missed Father so much."_

The door banged open and Bethany awoke with a start. Darkness enshrouded the room. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light streaming in from the fireplace out in the main living area, she could just make out the form of Garrett trying to steady himself on the door frame. She glared at him in disgust, though she knew he wouldn't see. "If you're going to be out this late, you might as well just stay out. You've slept at The Hanged Man and The Blooming Rose before," she snapped.

He laughed and groped his way towards his own bed, his heavy boots dragging across the floor. "I'm trying to save up the coin for that expedition, remember?"

"_Isabela wouldn't share her bed for free?_" she thought. "Just try not to make so much noise," she said out loud. "Gamlen will be terribly angry if you wake him up at this hour."

"Gamlen will just have to get the fuck over himself." Fully clothed, Garrett collapsed face-down on the bed.

Heavy snoring commenced mere moments later, and Bethany knew he would be unresponsive for the rest of the night. Wrapping her thin blanket around her shoulders to ward off any chill, she tiptoed across the room to the open door. The ill-kempt house in the Lowtown slums was drafty and poorly insulated, and the fireplace did little to keep its occupants warm. Shivering, she adjusted the door so the brightness of the flames would no longer shine in her eyes, and returned to her own bed against the wall.

The dream had been pleasant and comforting, and only served to remind her of their dismal circumstances. She tried to reclaim it by falling back to sleep, but Garrett's boisterous entrance had fully jarred her into consciousness. Having to share a room with her sibling at this stage in life was awkward and inconvenient. Their sparse accommodations, unfortunately, left few alternatives.

Bethany blinked into the darkness and tried to remember more details of the dream. It was no secret that her mother yearned to rejoin the ranks of the upper class she had once left behind. The Amell name no longer held the same clout in Kirkwall, and if the family was to regain their status, it would be up to the Hawke children. Garrett had dreams of finding riches in the Deep Roads, and, having nothing better to do, Bethany was eager to tag along. While Leandra worried about their welfare, her youngest was at the receiving end of most of her concern. Her hopes for her sole daughter were pinned on the possibility that she might attract the eye of some noble and bring the rest of the family with her to Hightown.

As much as she wanted to make her mother happy, Bethany couldn't see herself idly puttering around in a sprawling estate, relegated to a life of baking or gardening. Due to her family's protection of her and their constant fleeing from the Templars and other dangers, she hadn't had much time to think about men in general. They were relatively safe now, though the Gallows would always loom menacingly in the distance, and she had more time to let her mind wander.

Her brother's companions were her own source of socializing. Naturally, she preferred the company of some over others, yet she tried to maintain a cordial relationship with each of them. Fenris would never see her as anything but a mage, and he harbored so much anger and resentment, she chose to keep their interactions brief. Varric was…Varric. She adored the dwarf's charming tales and good nature, and was perfectly content to keep him as a close friend.

Then there was Anders. For the first time since her father's passing, Bethany was delighted to meet someone else who truly understood what it was to be a mage. Like her, he was currently dodging the grasps of the Circle, and he shared her burdens of the peril they faced.

She loosened the blanket from its hold on her as she fondly recalled their first meeting. He had been healing another refugee from Ferelden, and it had nearly drained him of all his energy. His quest to save his friend from the Templars, along with his revelation of the spirit inside him, only further proved his selflessness and commitment to the safety of mages.

He was a good, compassionate man. More importantly, he hadn't recoiled in fear and horror upon learning what she was. He knew there was more to her than the curse of magic, and only he could truly comprehend the power that surged through her without any platitudes or patronization. Any time spent with him had been in the presence of her brother, and there was usually some sort of urgent business to attend to. She enjoyed his company, what little of it she had experienced, and looked forward to the times when they could indulge in their own conversations that had little to do with Garrett's dealings.

Bethany felt her cheeks grow warm, and she shook her head in disbelief. Just the thought of spending time alone with Anders made her blush like a schoolgirl, and she felt foolish. Shrugging the blanket off her torso, she tried to think of something, anything else. Her mind refused to relinquish the thoughts of the handsome mage, and she tossed and turned in her bed restlessly.

She _did_ like to look at him, she silently confessed. The intensity of his masculine features was downplayed by his soulful brown eyes, and she loved when they were focused solely on her. His physique remained mostly hidden by the heavy clothing he wore, and for a brief moment, she allowed herself to ponder what lay beneath. She pictured him with broad shoulders, strong arms, and perhaps a sprinkling of hair trailing down towards….

Bethany groaned softly to herself and rolled over yet again. This was not the path to a restful sleep. Her thoughts continued to betray her, and she couldn't get the newly conjured images of Anders out of her head. The heat spread from her face to her neck and chest and beyond, and she kicked the blanket off entirely, desperate to free herself from the stifling warmth. Her nightgown seemed unbearably constricting as she imagined a pair of gentle hands traveling all over her, caressing her skin with the most tender of touches. Lips would meet hers, bodies would press together, and they would breathe as one as she mirrored the exploration. Without thinking, she slipped a hand between her legs, trying to calm the fire that burned inside her. Temptation was difficult to resist, and she tentatively stroked the dampness that had formed through her smallclothes. She wanted to give in to the lures of her body's responses, but most of all, she wanted it to be someone else eliciting those reactions.

A loud snore from the other side of the room pierced the quiet night air, startling Bethany so much, she nearly toppled onto the floor. With her every nerve still aflame, she cursed under her breath and retrieved her blanket from where it had been flung. "Of all the nights for you _not_ to stay out…" she muttered. Rearranging both her nightgown and the covers, she flopped back down and refocused her imagination on how best to help her brother get them out of Gamlen's home and into a house with more bedrooms.


	3. Sunshine in the Darkness

The last of the patients had left hours earlier. Night had fallen, and no newcomers had made their way to the Darktown clinic. Anders was just about to extinguish the outside lantern when there was a knock at the door.

Never one to turn down someone in need, he rushed over to invite the latest victim of hard times inside. "Bethany!" he exclaimed upon learning the identity of his visitor. He peered behind her and was surprised to see that she had come alone. "What are you doing here? And why did you venture down here by yourself? It's dangerous, and –" He stopped himself, choosing not to deliver a lecture. "Forgive me. Where are my manners? Please, come in," he said, stepping aside.

She entered the clinic, shutting the door behind her. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bother you."

"You're not bothering me."

"It's just…." Taking a seat on a nearby crate, she bit her lower lip. "Mother and Uncle were fighting again, and Maker knows where Garrett is tonight, and…." She glanced up at him. "I just started walking, and I wound up here."

Anders wasn't sure what to make of her "accidental" arrival in Darktown. "Just as long as you got here safely."

Bethany looked around the small set of rooms, fiddling with the end of one of her sleeves. "While I'm down here, you know, I was thinking…."

He felt his throat grow dry. "Yes?"

"I know a few basic healing spells. I'm sure I'm not nearly as gifted as you are, but I could always learn more as I go." She smiled shyly at him. "I was wondering if I could help out here sometimes. I feel so useless sitting around the house all day until Mother or Garrett needs me for something, and I admire all that you do for people like me. I was lucky enough to get out of Ferelden safely, and I'd really like to help those who aren't as fortunate as I am."

Anders let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Bethany's offer was unexpected, and he was touched by her desire to lend whatever assistance she could. The number of his patients never seemed to diminish, and he firmly believed in her capabilities as a healer. Additional company would also be nice, he admitted, and being able to share the workload would only be beneficial to those who needed medical attention.

She fidgeted in her seat as she awaited his response. Her elbows were propped up on her knees, and she leaned forward slightly as her gaze fixed on him. As he looked upon her peaceful countenance, he couldn't help but feel she radiated an aura of calmness and hope, and it was a much-needed breath of fresh air down in the slums of Kirkwall. In some ways, she almost seemed out of place in the dark, dingy clinic, with her pale skin and delicate features, her long neck leading his eye down to where her hunched position offered him a view down the front of her dress….

He turned away quickly, nearly knocking into a table full of herbs and potions. "I can't say I wouldn't mind an extra set of hands around here," he said hurriedly, busying himself with the arrangement of bottles. "But I do worry about you coming down here alone. This isn't the safest of places."

Bethany's eyes narrowed slightly. "I can take care of myself. I got here tonight, didn't I?"

"I know, I know. I'd just hate it if anything happened to you."

"I'll be fine." The smile returned. "I promise."

Anders couldn't help but return her eager grin. "Somehow I get the feeling that even if I didn't agree, you'd keep coming back here just to prove me wrong," he joked.

"You may be right."

He chuckled. "Perhaps you're more like your brother than I initially thought. Maker forbid someone try to tell a Hawke 'no' in response to anything."

Bethany's jaw jutted out indignantly. "I wish people would see me as something other than Garrett's kid sister, always trailing behind in his footsteps."

"I'm sorry." Anders frowned at his insensitive comment. "For what it's worth, that's not how I see you at all."

"Really?"

"Of course not. I don't see him down here volunteering his free time, do you?"

Her expression softened. "As it doesn't involve him hacking anything to bits with his sword, no."

"Just as long as I stay on the right end of that sword, I can't complain." He extended his hand and helped Bethany to her feet, his pulse fluttering at the touch of her soft skin. "But enough about him. If you want to come by during the day tomorrow, I'd appreciate the extra help."

"I'll be here."

"Wonderful." Anders followed her to the door, and looked outside. The path back to Lowtown was barely visible in the poor lighting conditions, and he wasn't sure what sort of thugs would be lurking in the dark alleys at this hour. "Let me escort you back to your uncle's house," he suggested.

"Didn't we just establish that I can take care of myself?" Her arms were folded across her chest, but the sparkle in her eye revealed her lack of true annoyance.

"Yes, yes, I know, but remember what I said about not wanting to find myself at the wrong end of Garrett's sword. Indulge me, please. If not for your safety, then mine."

She relented without further argument, and the pair proceeded through the dark corridors. Though they kept an eye out for anyone who could potentially cause them harm, their trip to Lowtown was uneventful. Along the way, Bethany asked Anders's time in the Circle and his eventual arrival in Kirkwall. He, in turn, inquired about the parts of Ferelden he'd never had the opportunity to see and the life spent with her family he'd never gotten to experience.

Gamlen's door appeared within view far too quickly. "Thank you for walking with me. Even though I still maintain I would have been just fine on my own," she teased.

"The pleasure was all mine." Anders watched her ascend the stairs to her uncle's home. She hesitated before entering, and the faint light from the window bathed her face in an ethereal glow. "I'll see you tomorrow, then?" he asked softly.

"Yes." With a friendly wave, she disappeared inside the house.

* * *

Days turned into weeks, and Bethany proved herself to be a competent assistant. Her compassion towards her patients bolstered the spells and potions used to heal their bodies, and those in need were able to be tended to more efficiently. Regardless of who walked in the door and how they suffered, her sunny disposition never wavered.

After years spent surrounded solely by the injured and dying, Anders was incredibly grateful for the change of pace and looked forward to the days when she was able to work beside him. Her presence in the clinic lingered even after she left in the evenings, and he hadn't found it any easier to shake the thoughts of her long after he extinguished the lanterns. He was careful, however, to keep their friendship just that. As much as he was drawn to her, he knew it was better for both of them not to let her get too close.

He often encouraged her to leave during the daylight hours, though there were times the number of patients kept them working long into the night. Always the courteous protector, he refused to let her walk back to Lowtown after nightfall alone. She eventually gave up her half-hearted protests. Accompanying her outside of the undercity, in the fresher air and pale moonlight, was swiftly becoming his favorite pastime. It was easy to forget all of the woes of the darker places with her, and while he would never abandon their plight, he relished in the stolen moments.

In some ways, she never ceased to surprise him. "May I ask you a question?" she said one night as they approached the stairs to her uncle's home.

"Of course."

She paused, as if choosing her words carefully. "Do you really think there will ever be a time when mages are truly free?" she whispered, keeping her voice low to avoid being overheard by anyone who may be roaming the streets. "A time when magic is accepted, not feared? When mages no longer wake up in the morning terrified of what could be inflicted upon them?"

"I…I don't know." They were complex questions, and Anders didn't have a simple answer. "Part of me is so discouraged and disgusted by all that I've seen, everything around me. It's easy to lose hope." Bethany frowned, and he hurriedly continued. "But if hope is lost, then there's no reason to keep trying, is there? So part of me must think that time will come eventually."

"I hope you're right."

Even in the shadows, Bethany was a shimmering beacon of optimism. The way she smiled at him made him want nothing more than to trust in his own words and assure her that better times were ahead of them. "_She can be useful to our cause_," rang the voice in his head. He grimaced, trying to dispel the foreboding echoes, and attempted to turn his focus back to the lovely woman standing mere inches away from him. "I want to believe it. I want to believe that freedom is attainable, and is within our reach," he told her.

She put a hand on his shoulder. "If you can believe that, then so can I." Standing on her toes, she impulsively leaned forward and kissed his cheek. His breath caught in his throat, and he looked at her, astonished. Clasping her hand to her mouth, her eyes grew wide as she realized what she had done, and neither one spoke as they stared at each other in the muted light.

Bethany regained her composure and stepped backwards onto the bottom step. "Good night, Anders," she said as she turned around and scurried up the staircase. "I'll try to come to the clinic tomorrow."


	4. Fire and Ice

"Oh, _shit_." Garrett Hawke was never one to mince words.

"Andraste's tits! I can't remember the last time I saw something so big!" Isabela chimed in.

Bethany didn't have time to offer her own opinion on the matter at hand as a large dragon soared into the air, blocking out the sun and casting a shadow over the four fighters. They'd received fair warning of its existence from one of the surviving miners, and had slain an immeasurable number of its offspring inside the mine. Even so, the mature dragon was an impressive (and ominous) sight.

The winged reptile slammed back into the ground, sending a tremor rippling beneath its opponents' feet. Garrett drew his sword and rushed forward. "Someone get behind it!" he yelled.

Isabela was little more than a blur on the battlefield. She dodged around the dragon's feet, administering a series of lacerating wounds with her daggers. Bethany followed her brother's instructions, and, keeping close to the perimeter of the rocky ledge, tried to escape their enemy's notice as she hurled a series of fireballs at its back.

The dragon roared and sent Garrett sprawling backwards. His helmet was the only thing that saved his skull from shattering against the jagged stones. When he stood up, Bethany could see from where she was standing a good distance away that he appeared woozy and had difficulty keeping his balance. There was no way for her to get to him quickly, but Anders appeared at his side, ready with a healing spell.

"Oh, you bastard! You'll pay for that!" Isabela growled. She plunged a knife deep into the dragon's shank, and was on the opposite side of it before it could even register the pain. Bethany followed up with another barrage of flaming projectiles, making sure to stay out of the path of the ferocious beast.

Anders's magic was enough to revitalize the sword-wielding warrior. With a barbaric scream, Garrett ran at the dragon again. He leapt into the air with his weapon above his head, and brought it down with a mighty blow. The blade tore into the dragon's chest, and it emitted an agonizing screech. Though it thrashed about wildly, its head and wings were drooping, and Bethany knew the end was near.

Between the dragon's legs, she caught sight of Anders standing across the clearing from her. With the rest of the party now in relatively good health, he was now free to launch his own offensive spells. Both mages checked on the locations of their allies before unleashing a maelstrom to finish off the bloodthirsty predator.

Garrett ducked out of the way as a torrent of ice left Anders's staff. The frozen crystals immobilized the dragon, catching it in mid-roar. After making sure that Isabela had joined her brother a safe distance away, Bethany summoned all her strength and let loose an apocalyptic firestorm. Smoldering flames rained down on the dragon, shattering the encasement of ice in a thunderous explosion. Burned beyond recognition from extreme temperatures on both ends of the spectrum, the dragon's form slumped to the ground.

Isabela clapped her hands in appreciation, though the level of sincerity of the gesture was unknown. "Oh, good show! I do love things that sparkle!" She joined Garrett beside the smoking corpse and waited for it to cool down before poking at it.

"I'll report back to Hubert and tell him that the mine is safe again. At least until the next catastrophe happens." Garrett nudged the dragon's snout with the toe of his boot. "I can't say I'd want to run into these things too often."

"Where's your sense of adventure?" Isabela giggled. "Either way, this calls for a celebration. Drinks are on me tonight!"

"Well, if that's what killing a monstrous dragon gets me, maybe I _will_ go seek out more of them."

"Did I mention I'm only buying the first round?"

They continued their banter as they made their way back towards the mine. Bethany glanced over at Anders and gave him a satisfied smile. Their mastery of the opposing elements had aligned to bring down their foe. Each of them was powerful in his or her own right, but working together had produced awe-inspiring results. The perfect complement of their spells had not gone unnoticed even by their less magically-inclined colleagues, and Bethany felt the bond between them grow stronger. Realizing the almost intimate implication of their shared forces, she abruptly looked away and hurried to catch up with the others.

* * *

The Hanged Man was frequently crowded in the evenings, but Isabela had managed to get a table for the party. It wasn't Bethany's favorite place, and she sometimes had to rely on the savvy pirate to keep the more lecherous patrons away. After traipsing around the filthy mines all day, not to mention the battles with the dragons, she'd decided to join the group at the tavern.

Anders had chosen to return home following their return to Lowtown. He was replaced by Varric, who was already spinning their day's adventures into an epic tale of victory against seven high dragons. He always provided entertaining company, and Bethany soon felt herself relaxing as she listened to his stories and sipped whatever drink Isabela had plopped in front of her.

"…and then Hawke grabbed the dragon by the throat! It swung him around in a full circle and was about to take off with him, but then Rivaini over here stabbed it in the foot, driving her dagger right through it into the ground. Isn't that right?"

"Yes. Of course. That's exactly what happened." Garrett laughed. "I think I need a refill. Come on, Varric, this one's on you."

Their attentive audience followed them to the bar in hopes of being on the receiving end of some unexpected generosity, leaving the two women behind at the table. "See, sweetness? This place isn't all that bad," Isabela said. "You should come here more often. It would do you some good to unwind a bit."

"Perhaps." Bethany raised the mug to her lips again, but then hesitated. "Isabela? Can I ask you something?"

"As long as it's naughty. Otherwise, I might get bored."

She had to smile at her friend's honesty. "It's probably tame by your standards. I was just wondering – when you…uh…when you set your sights on a man, so to speak, how do you let him know? Like, what happens next?"

"What do you mean, 'what happens next'? Do you think I send out engraved invitations to my room upstairs?"

"No, of course not!"

"I let them know I'm interested, and then we go from there. It's not that difficult, really." Isabela raised an eyebrow and one side of her mouth curled up in a half-smile. "Ohh. I know what this is about now," she said slyly.

"It's nothing. I was just curious." Bethany quickly swallowed another mouthful of her bitter beverage.

"This is about you and everyone's favorite mopey mage! I knew there was something going on between you two!"

"Will you please keep your voice down?" she pleaded. "There's nothing going on!"

The mischievous pirate leaned forward, ready to follow the request to speak softer, but unwilling to abandon her quest for more information. "But you would like there to be something going on!" Bethany didn't answer. "He's a man, sweetness. All you have to do is strut up to him and ask if he needs any help polishing his staff at night."

"Isabela!"

"What?"

Bethany took another gulp from her mug, hoping to find some relief in the cold liquid. "I can't do that," she mumbled. "I'm not like you."

Isabela's smirk disappeared. "You're right. You're not," she said in a rare serious tone. "And I think that simple fact will go a long way with Anders."

"I'm not sure I understand."

She shook her head. "I see things. I'm good at reading people. I think you're worrying far too much about this."

"I wish I were as confident as you."

"You just keep being you." Isabela patted her hand. "Be yourself. Do what feels right. He'll appreciate it, I'm sure."

Bethany finally looked up from the cloudy depths of her mug. "Do you really think so?"

"Remember what I said about reading people. Trust me."


	5. Seeing Clearly

"Come back in two days, and I'll change the dressing. Try not to get it wet." Anders finished wrapping a bandage around the hand of a rather scruffy sailor. "And watch out for rusty nails at the docks. Among other things."

He followed the patient to the door, and looked out into the empty alley once he was gone. "Can't say I mind the quiet days," he remarked.

Bethany continued sweeping up the assorted debris that had drifted into the clinic. "If it means no one is sick, injured, or dying, I'm fine with not being terribly busy."

He turned to face her. For a moment, he was struck by the injustice of someone like her performing menial tasks in the shadows of the slums, rather than flitting about the streets of Hightown where she belonged. She never once complained about anything that needed to be done in the clinic, and he wasn't sure if that lessened his sympathy or increased it. "I can finish that up, if you'd like," he said. "I don't think anyone else is coming today."

"It's okay. I don't mind."

"I wouldn't want to keep you here any longer than necessary."

The broom stopped moving over the rough stone floor. "Sometimes I prefer staying here," she said without looking up. "I feel…I feel more like myself."

She didn't elaborate further, yet Anders understood. Down in Darktown, they were free to use their magic, to prove that most mages were inherently good. The Hawke family had always worked to protect her, but aside from her deceased father, none of them could truly comprehend what it was like to live as a mage. "Here, let me help," he said, grabbing a dustpan.

They worked together in silence, developing a steady rhythm accompanied by the scratchy swish of the broom's bristles. Once they had cleaned to their satisfaction, Anders straightened up and brought the pan outside to empty. Upon his return, he hesitated at the doorway. "It's getting late. And dark out there."

He thought he saw a small frown appear. "Well, if you really want me to leave, I'll go," she said.

"No! It's not that…." Anders paced across the room, trying to choose the best course of action. The truth never hurt, he ultimately decided. "I'm just afraid of what could happen with you down here."

"Afraid?" she repeated. "Afraid of what? I feel perfectly safe."

"Maybe you should be afraid." He couldn't look at her. "Bethany, not only am I an apostate barely escaping the clutches of the Templars, I'm one small step above an abomination. I've accepted responsibility for everything I've done, but I don't want to inflict that on anyone else. Especially you."

"You are _not_ an abomination." He heard her set the broom down and walk towards him. Her hand rested on his arm, and he didn't know whether to shy away from her touch or ask for more. "I know it didn't work the way you wanted, but it was brave, what you did with Justice. I never knew you before, so it hasn't changed you for me."

Anders finally turned around to face her. "You're too kind," he said softly.

Her hand hadn't moved. "I know my brothers always loved me. Even so, I always knew there was a part of them, a small part that feared I was going to be possessed by a demon and claw their faces off in the middle of the night." Bethany tilted her head to the side and smiled sadly. "I know what it's like to be on the receiving end of those looks. I know what it's like to be little more than a label to some people." She trailed her fingers down his arm and squeezed his hand. "I know you see me as more than just a mage, another apostate. Why can't you let me do the same for you?"

He inhaled deeply, still teetering on the precipice and unsure of whether or not he wanted to take the leap. "And what do you see me as?"

"I see you as a man, a good man. A man who gives so much of himself to try to make his world a better place." Her deep brown eyes never left his. "A man I wanted to get to know better, because I knew he would be just as kind to me as he is to everyone else who comes in here."

She was standing so very close to him, her face mere inches from his own. Anders knew what she wanted, and he wanted it, too. Badly. Regardless of her encouraging words, he couldn't completely let go of his apprehensions. "We shouldn't be doing this," he whispered.

"I want to."

"Bethany…"

"_Please_."

Her mouth was soft, and warm, and inviting. She pressed her body against his, leaning fully into the kiss. Her lips parted to allow him further access, and when he made contact with the sweet silk of her tongue, he couldn't remember ever having tasted anything so divine.

He would have been content to leisurely explore the depths of her mouth, but a new problem tugged at the back of his mind. With great difficulty, he pulled away from her. "What's wrong?" she asked, opening her eyes.

"Nothing. Nothing at all." Anders hurried towards the doorway and reached for the outside lantern. Once the flame had fully disappeared, he closed both doors, locking them behind him.

When he turned back around, he saw that Bethany was seated at the edge of his bed. Her back was straight, her hands were on her knees, and he couldn't tell if she was comfortable or not. He gingerly sat next to her, making sure to keep a sliver of space between them. Unsure of how best to proceed, he reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear, fully exposing her face to him.

She stared straight ahead at an unknown point on the floor. "You've done this before, right?"

It wasn't a question he'd been expecting. "Well…yes. A fair number of times."

"Good." She stole a sideways glance at him. "Then I know you'll do all the right things. I trust you."

"We don't have to –"

She cut him off with another kiss. This time, there was a greater sense of urgency, and Anders knew he wouldn't be able to tear himself away so easily. Without breaking contact, he reached around the back of her neck, beneath her hair, and unfastened the knot that held her scarf in place. It fluttered to the floor, and he trailed his fingers back towards the skin he had just revealed. He traced a line over her collarbone down to the swell of her chest, feeling her rise against him as she responded to his touch.

There was so much he wanted to show her, so much he wanted to share with her. Control would be a necessity, he reminded himself, and he made a silent promise to be gentle. The eagerness with which she kissed him, however, tested the limits of his patience. Fighting the urge to simply tear her clothing off of her, he found the ties at the front of her tunic and gave them a light tug.

Bethany backed away and peered up at him through her dark lashes. Wordlessly, she unbuckled her belt and let it join the discarded scarf. Before he could make any further progress with the loosened laces, she reached up and grazed the chain that held his feathered cape in place. He unfastened it and quickly shrugged it off in order to pay more attention to her.

Piece by piece, they removed the various articles until there was nothing separating them but their smallclothes. Only then did Anders guide her back until she was lying flat on the bed. He lay next to her, his skin meeting hers in a warm embrace. The heat between them grew as he pulled her in for another kiss, banishing the cold emptiness that had previously ruled the clinic at night.

The more experienced mage deftly removed any shreds of fabric that still remained. With all obstacles out of the way, he dragged his lips down her neck until he reached the two supple mounds he had just uncovered. She gasped as he drew a hardened nipple into his mouth, making sure to pay attention to its mate with his hand. He took his duty to introduce her to a new world of sensations very seriously, and he made note of her movements as she squirmed beneath him.

He could have stayed buried in her ample breasts for the remainder of the night, but other pursuits beckoned him. Kissing lower and lower, he finally arrived at the apex of her legs. Her eyes were closed, her body trembling ever so slightly, and Anders stroked the inside of her thigh reassuringly. Letting his hand linger near the heat that emitted from her dampened cleft, he located the sensitive nub and drew his thumb over it with the lightest of touches.

Bethany shuddered, and a small moan escaped her lips. He repeated the motion, this time applying a little more pressure, and achieved similar results. Knowing that they were just at the beginning of this journey on which he would be her guide, he lowered his head back down.

The application of his tongue was as if he'd sent an electrical current throughout her. Her hips bucked upwards, but he refused to let her go. Anders heard her pant for air, and it only further drove him toward his goal of bringing her pleasure. He wanted to make sure her body was entirely prepared for everything he had to offer. When he sensed she was growing nearer to her climax, he carefully inserted a single finger into her.

Her body tensed before spasming uncontrollably. She tightened around him, and he continued his actions until he was certain he had coaxed forth every second of ecstasy. Her contented sighs were a song he had almost forgotten, filling his ears and heart with a long-lost joy.

When she stopped shaking and her breathing had slowed, he slid back up the bed, propping himself up next to her on one arm. She looked at him through half-lidded eyes, the peaceful smile that had initially grabbed his attention ever present on her face. Lifting her hand, she reached around to the back of his head and removed the band that held his hair out of the way. Messy blond strands fell forward, brushing past the stubble on his jaw, and her smile only widened.

Bethany's hand traveled down to his chest, toying with the downy curls that appeared to cover him in a sheen of gold. Her fingertips followed the path down the front of his body, her intense gaze probing everything she touched. Arriving at the rock-hard erection that had gone neglected, she tentatively circled her fingers around it. Her feathery grasp was nearly enough to make him lose all semblance of willpower, and he unsuccessfully tried to stifle a groan.

She nodded at him, tacitly granting him permission to continue. Anders maneuvered on top of her, taking the time to caress her cheek before positioning himself. He eased inside her gradually, meeting with some natural resistance, and pushed forward. She whimpered at the anticipated burst, and he waited for her to relax before moving again. With slow deliberation, he worked his way in and out of her, letting her adjust to the newfound penetration.

The feeling of being surrounded by her was more than anything he had dreamed of. It was a secret act in a forbidden place, committed by two people adept at dodging the law, yet there was such beauty and intimacy threaded around their entwined bodies. After all that had happened, all he had done, Anders still couldn't quite shake the idea that he was undeserving of this good fortune. His doubts were rapidly wiped away by a pair of arms wrapping around his waist, pulling him even closer.

His blissful release was imminent. He stared down at the woman beneath him, taking in the magnificent sight. Everything about her was sensual and enticing, from the dark waves splayed across his pillow, to the plump, pink lips that mouthed his name. One last thrust shattered the final boundary between them, and he collapsed on top of her, letting the ripples of orgasm course through his blood and consume his soul.

He slid to the side of her, resting his chin in her hair and holding her against his chest. Bethany draped an arm around him, and he could feel her heart beating in time with his own. "Anders?" she murmured drowsily.

"Yes?"

"I'm glad I met you."

"I'm the lucky one," he answered, kissing the top of her head.

They lay side by side, breathing in unison. Minutes or hours could have passed before she spoke again. "I suppose you should walk me home soon…."

He would have loved nothing more than to spend the night in her embrace, but he knew she was right. "Only if you promise to come back," he teased, trying to alleviate their mutual disappointment.

She inched away from him until she could look into his eyes. "I just want to be with you," she assured him. "Nothing could keep me away."


	6. Rays of Dawn

_Bethany sat quietly as her mother moved the brush through her wavy hair. This was an important day, she was sure of it. Anxiety clenched her stomach, and she tried to breathe deeply to calm her nerves. Faint memories of her surroundings and circumstances rose to the surface, and she voiced her questions. "Is everybody here?"_

_"They're waiting for us downstairs."_

_"What about Father? And Carver?"_

_"Everyone's waiting for you."_

_Instead of the expected cheerful tone, Leandra's voice was flat and distant. Bethany looked at their reflection in the mirror and saw that her mother was not smiling. There was no music, nor did she hear any joyous voices coming from outside the room. Something was wrong. "Mother? What's going on?"_

_"They're waiting for you," Leandra simply repeated._

_Bethany stood up, knocking over the stool in her haste. There was no response from her mother. She ran towards the door, almost tripping over the hem of her long skirt. Flinging the door wide open, she burst into the hallway._

_Standing outside was an impossibly large number of Templars. They surrounded her from all angles, and there was nowhere to hide. She frantically groped for the doorknob in an effort to return to the smaller room, but there was no escape. "No!" she cried out. "No, no, no…." She sunk to her knees as they closed in on her. "Please don't take me!"_

Bethany's eyes flew open. Her heart pounded in her chest and she wheezed noisily, struggling for air. It was morning, though it was difficult to tell as the sunlight fought to stream in the grimy window. The other bed was empty, and she was relieved that Garrett wasn't around in the aftermath of her bad dream.

Once she had fully recovered, she climbed out of bed and padded into the main room. Leandra was seated at the table, but luckily, Gamlen was nowhere to be found. "Good morning, Mother," she greeted her, slipping into a wobbly chair. "Where are the others?"

"I don't think your brother ever came home last night," she answered with a small shrug of her shoulders. "And Gamlen's gone out for some food and other supplies."

Bethany nodded and covered her mouth as she yawned. Her mother pushed a bowl filled with some sort of indistinguishable runny food in her direction, and she forced herself to take a bite. It didn't taste as bad as it looked. "Thanks," she said.

"What are your plans for today? Are you going down to the clinic again?"

"Yes." She pushed around the grayish blob with her spoon. "I wanted to talk to you about that, actually."

"Oh?"

Bethany couldn't quite make eye contact with her mother. "Well, I've been thinking – some days we get so busy, and we work so late into the night…it might be easier if I stay there overnight sometimes."

"I see."

"There are a couple of extra beds there, of course," she said hurriedly.

"Of course."

She furtively glanced up at her, and was surprised to find a bemused smile upon her face. "So it's okay, then?"

"At least I know you'll be safe there." Leandra wrinkled her nose. "Unlike your brother, who's off gallivanting around the city until all hours of the night."

"I should go get ready." Bethany stood up. Before returning to her room to wash up and change her clothes, she kissed her mother on the cheek. "Thank you."

"Just be careful, dear."

* * *

There was already a line of people waiting when Bethany arrived at the clinic. She only had time to offer Anders a brief greeting before she set to work on her first patient. None of the visitors seeking aid were in serious condition, yet there was a steady flow of coughs, colds, and minor injuries to keep her occupied for several hours.

She stood up and stretched when the last of them had finally left. "Never a dull moment in here."

"Especially when you're around." He crossed the room, opening his arms to her.

She was more than happy to finally fling her arms around his neck and receive the kiss she'd been waiting for. "I hope you weren't planning on getting rid of me any time soon," she teased.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't have to leave tonight."

He looked at her quizzically. "But what about your family?"

"It's all settled. They know where I am." Bethany brushed her lips against his again, savoring the slight thrill that rushed through her whenever they made contact. "I wanted to know what it was like to wake up next to you in the morning," she confessed.

"I hope I don't disappoint."

She laughed, and extracted herself from his grasp to clean up her area. While she organized the various supplies and returned them to their proper places, Anders rummaged in the shelves and cabinets along the back wall. "I'm not accustomed to hosting guests," he said. "You'll forgive me if this meal isn't anything fancy."

"Don't worry. I don't mind at all." She finished putting away the unused potions. "Should I leave the doors open and the lantern out?"

"Maybe for just a little while longer. I won't be bothered if someone disrupts our dinner. But afterwards, I'm keeping you to myself."

Bethany felt the familiar blush rise to her cheeks as she completed the task of tidying up. Every moment spent with Anders was new and exciting, and part of her couldn't help but wonder if this was just another dream. He was very real, though, and the feelings for him she had developed were only growing deeper with each passing day.

Once everything was in order, she joined him at a rickety table, where he had laid out two place settings. It was simple, yet cozy, and she flashed him an appreciative smile. "Something smells wonderful," she said.

"I'm afraid I'm not much of a cook. And it's not like good food is easy to come by down here. But you know that." After distributing the prepared meal onto the two plates, he sat down. "Garrett told me about your uncle, you know. What he did with your family's fortune. I'm sorry."

"It's okay." She took a sip from the glass of water that had been poured for her. "We were angry at first. Maybe still a little angry now, truth be told. But Garrett has plans to make his own way here in Kirkwall, and I'm sure he'll find success." The thought of her headstrong brother made her chuckle. "Though he could probably stand to spend a little less coin at The Blooming Rose."

He laughed. "Perhaps you should take over the family's finances."

"That's not a bad idea." Bethany idly spun her fork around in her fingers. "I'm not going to lie, this past year or so hasn't been easy. But we made it out of Lothering alive, we got into the city here, and Garrett and I have worked off our uncle's debts. Things could be a lot worse."

"You really are amazing," he said. "So many other people would be bitter about all that was taken from them. I admire how you can see past the hardships and what could have been."

"I don't want to think about that now. As far as I'm concerned, I'm exactly where I should be." She gazed warmly at him. "Here. With you."

Anders's plate was nearly empty, and he pushed it to the side. "I'll close up while you finish eating. Clearing the table can wait for a later time."

She managed a few more bites, though it was difficult with the tingling flutters that danced throughout her body. Knowing he was waiting for her made mundane tasks such as nourishing herself seem unnecessary, and she abandoned the dishes in favor of more exhilarating pursuits. When she stood up, he wasn't far behind her. He spun her around and pulled her in close for a searing kiss that rivaled the heat of the flames in the hearth.

Unwilling to surrender their crushing embrace, they stumbled towards the bed and crashed onto it, landing side by side. Although she hadn't completely overcome the nervousness that stemmed from her inexperience, Bethany was grateful to have found a patient, attentive lover. Not only was she enjoying learning more about Anders, both inside and out, she was discovering new things about herself in the process.

She couldn't wait to feel all of him pressed against her, on top of her, inside her. Her efforts to free his shirt from his waistband were interrupted, and he lifted her hand to his lips. "There's no rush tonight," he reminded her, kissing the tops of her fingers. "I'm not letting you go until dawn."


	7. A Business Proposition

The door to the clinic hadn't been open for more than several minutes before Garrett Hawke came blowing in like a raging hurricane. Anders, the sole occupant of the room, didn't have time to welcome him before the warrior whipped his dagger out of his belt and held it to the mage's throat. "What have you been doing with my sister?" he demanded.

Anders could feel the tip of the blade against his skin. "I…I'm sorry?"

"I know she's been spending the night down here sometimes. Don't lie to me."

Despite the weapon that was dangerously close to nicking a major artery, he kept his voice steady and cool. "Hawke, if you don't move your knife, I will do it for you. And you may find the results rather…shocking."

The two men stared at each other, locked in a standoff with neither willing to relent. Anders was beginning to wonder if he was really going to have to aim a bolt of lightning at his friend to ensure his own safety when Garrett lowered his arm and burst out in peals of high-pitched laughter. "You really do take everything too damn seriously, don't you?" he said, cackling merrily. "I really had you going there."

Anders merely shook his head. "I hope it would have been worth the loss of movement in your arm for the next week."

Garrett took another look at him and doubled over laughing again, struggling to catch his breath. "You should have seen the look on your face! I think Varric's right – you really do need to lighten up."

He couldn't help but crack a smile in spite of himself. "Does this mean you're not going to do anything irritating, like try to forbid her from coming down here?"

"Eh, let Bethany have her fun. She deserves to be happy, and if she gets that from you, I suppose you have my blessing." He waved the dagger around in an exaggerated pantomime. "But if you hurt her, I'll kill you!"

"I never know when I should believe you or not."

"Good. We'll keep it that way." Garrett sheathed the blade. "I didn't come down here just to threaten you, by the way."

"Well, that's a relief."

"I wanted to discuss the expedition to the Deep Roads with you," he said. "I've almost got the coin that Bartrand wants. A few more jobs and I should be set."

"And the maps I gave you," Anders reminded him.

"Right. Thanks again for that." He scratched his head. "So I was thinking, I don't know what we're going to find down there, and I've never been to the Deep Roads before. I figure it couldn't hurt to bring someone along who knows his way around, and can heal us if things go bad."

"I don't know. I wasn't planning on ever going back there."

"If Bartrand's information is correct, I think it'll be worth your while." Garrett turned his head from side to side, taking in his surroundings. "Just think, you might even be able to get out of this musty hovel!"

"And move up to Hightown, where the Templars would be on me in a matter of seconds? No, thank you."

"Okay, fine. Then you could improve this place. You could get supplies and equipment more easily, and you'd be able to help more people."

He had to admit that Garrett made a convincing argument. "I'll think it over," he promised. "Who else is going with you?"

"Bethany still plans on coming along. So if you two want to snuggle at the campsites, I'll look the other way." Anders narrowed his eyes, but said nothing. "Varric is already invested in this, of course. And I think I can convince Isabela to go. Something tells me I should keep a close eye on that woman," he said with a wink.

"Sounds like quite the party."

"Oh, yes. It'll be a real blast." Garrett grinned at him. "Come on. You should join us."

"I already said I'd think about it."

A man and a woman entered the clinic, the former obviously limping and relying on his companion for support. "I'll let you get back to work," Garrett said. "But I'll expect an answer soon. Don't make me get Bethany to use her feminine wiles on you."

"She would do no such thing."

"Let's hope we don't have to find out." He exited the clinic, leaving the healer alone with his latest patient.

Anders mulled over the proposition as he sat down to work on the man's afflictions. He'd always thought that he'd put the Deep Roads behind him for good, yet Garrett did have some valid points. His own financial gain was not a primary concern, but perhaps he _would_ be able to better aid others should the team profit from the expedition. _"And continue to work towards our goal,"_ spoke the other voice.

Then there was Bethany. Although he never doubted that her affection towards him was genuine, he still couldn't help but sometimes feel she deserved more than an apostate living in Darktown who shared his body with an unpredictable spirit. It was too early to tell where, precisely, their relationship was headed, nor did he have any plans to abandon his clinic. For the first time since arriving in Kirkwall, he was able to catch a glimpse of the possibility of a brighter future. Should he attain it, it was a future he wanted to share with her.

Just as he was finishing his treatment of the man's injured ankle, the younger Hawke made her appearance. "Did I just see my brother ducking through the alleyways?" she asked.

"You did. He left a few minutes ago."

"I'll only give myself a headache if I try to keep track of his whereabouts." Bethany waited until the couple was gone to slip her arms around his shoulders and kiss his cheek. "What did he want?"

He stood up and turned around to give her a more proper welcome. "He asked if I would join you on the expedition to the Deep Roads."

"And?"

"I haven't decided yet. What do you think?"

She coyly put a finger to her lips as she pretended to consider his question. "I think I would miss you terribly if I was gone for a long time, and I didn't know when I was coming back." Reaching up to lace her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck, she smiled sweetly at him. "And I know I would feel safer with you there," she said, standing on her toes so she could reach his mouth with hers.

The decision didn't take nearly as long to make as Anders had expected.


	8. Desires and Temptations

"Someone's up there!" Isabela shouted. The rogue pirate drew her daggers, and set out in pursuit of the robed figure that had vanished into the shadows on the upper level of the foundry. Before she could reach the staircase, a group of shades and abominations rose from the floor with a terrifying hiss.

"Blood magic," Ander spat, raising his staff.

Bethany readied a spell of her own. She aimed a fireball with precision, taking care not to hit either Isabela or Garrett. For every enemy that they slew, another seemed to spawn in its place, yet their blades continued to move at a deadly pace.

From the center of the fracas rose a slender body in the shape of a human female. Bethany recognized it as a desire demon, and mentally steeled herself for any trickery it might attempt. Such demons were frequently difficult to resist, and mages were already more susceptible to the possibility of possession. Keeping her distance from her dreaded foe, she prepared another strike.

It screeched as an onslaught of flames engulfed its face and singed its hair. Garrett took advantage of the distraction and swung his sword at the demon's neck. In a flash, Isabela appeared behind it, ready to stab it in the back. Sensing the potential for danger, each member of the party relentlessly attacked it, afraid of what could happen if it were allowed to entice any of them to the darkness.

The lesser creatures tried valiantly to bring down the four humans, but they were no match for the determined fighters. The last shade fell to Garrett's weapon, and the room was quiet once more. "Let's see what we can find in here," he said, pulling his bloodstained sword from the crumpled body.

They had been investigating the disappearance of a woman named Ninette, and the trail had led them to Lowtown. A search of the upper floor produced a few more shades that were quickly disposed of, but no sign of the person they had seen when they'd entered the building. Near an open doorway was a pile of rubble that was soon identified as human remains.

"That's a hand all right," Isabela observed as she knelt down to examine the bones.

Garrett crouched beside her. "Looks like there's still a ring attached to it. Do you want to pull it off, or shall I do the honors?"

"It's all yours."

Bethany shuddered as she contemplated the demise of the woman they'd been seeking. Anders was obviously correct – there was plenty of evidence of blood magic around them, and there was no telling what horrors the victim might have faced. She felt his hand on her shoulder, and some of the tension in her muscles dissipated while she watched her brother pry a dead woman's jewelry off her rotting finger.

"I guess I'd better get this back to her husband," Garrett said, slipping the ring into his pocket.

Isabela rolled her eyes. "I think I'll let you deal with him on your own. He's repulsive."

"Why, Isabela, I didn't think you were disgusted by much of anything!" He gave her shoulder a playful nudge. "But if you'd like, I can handle this myself. Consider yourselves dismissed."

* * *

Bethany followed Anders to the clinic, preferring his company over that of her mother and uncle after the day's events. While she was no stranger to death and suffering, she still couldn't help but be affected by what she had seen. She wasn't as jaded as her brother, nor did she have his ability to simply brush off unfortunate events (or drink them away), and she had yet to decide whether that was a good or bad thing. "That poor woman," she remarked, shaking her head. "Unhappily married to Ghyslain, and then to wind up like that…."

"It's terrible." Slipping behind her, Anders wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder. "Not just what happened to Ninette, though that's bad enough. Every time a mage resorts to blood magic, for whatever reason, it has a negative effect on the rest of us."

"I know." The warmth from his body relaxed her, and she took comfort in his embrace. It affirmed her decision to return to his home, as these were the conversations she couldn't have with her family and expect them to fully empathize with her. "The sad part is, in certain cases, I can almost see how a person could get to that point. But not with anything I saw today."

"Nothing good ever comes from blood magic. Trust me."

"I didn't say it would. All I'm saying is that I can understand the hopelessness, the desperation." She turned so she could see his face. "Every apostate loses sleep over wondering what would happen if the Templars showed up at his or her door. Fear makes people do crazy things."

Anders frowned, and she couldn't tell if he was saddened or angry by her statements. "It doesn't matter. There is never any justification for making a deal with demons."

"I'm not saying it's right, and I'm not saying I would do it. Just that the temptation is there."

"You wouldn't do it. You're stronger and smarter than that." With one finger, he tilted her chin up so he could kiss her lightly. "When you attempt to channel that power, it can change you forever. I'd be inconsolable if I lost the Bethany I've grown to know so well."

She was relieved that he wasn't upset with her. "Then I would be forever plagued with guilt, if I found out that you were so distressed on account of me," she said with a teasing smile. "I promise you that regardless of what situations I may ever find myself in, the thought of blood magic won't ever cross my mind."

Their lips met again, and parted to allow for a slow, luxurious kiss. As their tongues melded together, she tried to lose herself to his passionate touch, but a question still gnawed at her mind. "What would you do if the Templars came down here for you?" she asked.

"I don't know. Not a day goes by that I don't at least half-expect it. But that's not even my biggest concern anymore."

"It's not?"

Anders pulled her into his chest, kissing the top of her head as he stroked her tangled hair. "I worry that you're in danger by being here with me. This clinic isn't a very well-kept secret."

"If it's safe enough for you, it's safe enough for me."

"I just don't want to put a bigger target on your back merely by being close to you."

"I like it when you're close to me." Bethany could hear the steady pulse of his heart beneath her ear. She clasped her hands behind his back, squeezing him tightly as if he would disappear if she dared to let go. "The Templars could find me just as easily at my uncle's house. Especially if he decides he could benefit financially if he let my secret slip."

"Maker forbid!"

"So I don't want you to ever believe that you're putting me in danger. There's so much else we could be spending our time thinking about…."

Before she knew what was happening, he slipped an arm beneath her knees and scooped her up off the floor. She giggled in surprise, and held on to his shoulders. "I always told myself that I'd leave these decisions up to you," Anders said. "That you would still decide to be with me will take some getting used to."

She let him carry her over to the bed. "I suppose I'll just have to work harder at convincing you," she said, giving him one more kiss before he laid her down.


	9. Arriving at Love

"I don't know if I've ever seen my brother so angry. That woman's lucky to be alive."

Anders was inclined to agree with Bethany's assessment. "Are you sure you shouldn't be with him tonight?"

"I doubt he'll stay at home for very long. If I know him, he's already at The Hanged Man doing his best to drive away any thoughts of Sister Petrice and what she tried to do."

He wasn't going to argue with anything that allowed him more time with the caring woman who captivated his thoughts even when she wasn't physically present. "I keep trying to tell people that the Chantry isn't as pure and well-meaning as everyone makes them out to be. Pity no one will listen."

"I don't know if she was completely wrong about the Qunari, though. I know I don't always feel comfortable with them around."

"Try to look on the bright side. With a new target for the citizens of Kirkwall to fear and hate, it takes some of the pressure off the mages."

He'd coaxed a small smile from her, but it was short-lived. "It's just so depressing," she said, plopping down into a sitting position on the bed and resting her chin in her hands. "Everywhere I've been, there's always fighting, and violence, and turmoil. I suppose I should just accept it as a simple fact and move on."

"Don't say that." Anders added some more wood to the fire to ensure it would keep them warm throughout the night. He took a seat next to her and laced his fingers through hers. "As foolish as it seems sometimes, I try to maintain the hope that there will be peace one day."

"When you say it, you make it sound so easy to believe."

He considered his next words carefully before speaking them aloud. "Do you think you'd ever leave Kirkwall? Maybe see if things are better someplace else?"

"Not yet." Bethany sighed. "I've been running my entire life. I'm tired of it."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." She looked up at him. "All that running led me here to you, didn't it?"

"Well, yes."

She sighed again and shook her head. "I'm the one who should be sorry. I don't mean to be so downright gloomy tonight."

"It's okay. You can't be 'Sunshine' all the time," he said, giving her hand a squeeze.

"But I make it sound like I'm so unhappy, and nothing could be further than the truth." Without untangling their fingers, she slipped into his lap and leaned her forehead against his. "I don't know what I would have done here in Kirkwall if I hadn't met you. Whenever I'm not with you, it feels like a part of me is missing."

Now that she was a part of his life, being without her was unimaginable. In that moment, with the heat from her body spreading towards him as she spoke, breathed, _existed_ with him, Anders was nearly overcome with the raw emotion he felt. She'd been a radiant light in the darkest of places. Not only had she touched his soul, he knew he was extremely lucky in that she felt the same way. The brimming energy of their shared connection was struggling to be contained, and he had to let go of some of it in some way. Rather than some sort of explosive force, his passion slipped out in an intimate whisper. "I love you, Bethany."

Her lips were close to his, and her response was so soft, he felt it more than he heard it. "I love you, too."

He leaned backwards and pulled her down with him. The kiss that had punctuated their declarations rapidly grew more urgent. Anders couldn't wait to rid her body of the unwanted garments that only impeded the contact of their skin. She reciprocated the fervid fumblings to remove his clothing, and it wasn't long before they were completely bared to each other, their physical state matching their sentimental openness.

Bethany was beautiful, there was no denying it. She straddled him, and her unruly hair cascaded forward as she leaned forward to deliver another kiss, enveloping them in a curtain of satin. Her lips only stayed on his for a matter of seconds, soon progressing down to his neck and chest. He groaned as her body slid against his, the weight of her heavy breasts gliding over him in a deliberate motion that was so pleasurable, it was nearly painful as his arousal coursed through his bloodstream. Her kisses followed the path they forged, culminating in the turgid bulge that yearned for her touch.

He gasped as she took him into her mouth, the steamy heat that engulfed him drawing out his breath in labored rasps. She was gentle with him, yet purposeful with her actions in her quest to express her devotion. It would have been easy to lose himself in her tender manipulations, but he couldn't resist sneaking a look at her. When he lifted his head to watch what was going on, he was surprised to see her staring right back at him.

The sight of those fathomless brown eyes locked onto him as he disappeared into her was almost too much to handle. They were filled with love, an outpouring of affection that was mirrored by the attention she laved on him with her tongue. It was a flawless portrait that captured everything he adored about her. She was strong, yet delicate; powerful, yet generous. While part of him wanted to protect her from all the evils of the world, he knew it was unnecessary. She had been courageous in the face of everything she had experienced, and throughout it all, she had retained the capacity to care for someone like him.

Anders was quickly losing control. The combination of his feelings towards her and the slickened warmth into which he repeatedly entered ignited a spark that rippled through his tensed muscles. She was relentless in her apparent pursuit of his release. As much as he wanted to prolong the utter bliss he felt, he was helpless against the erupting climax that wreaked havoc on his body and drove his mind into a state of euphoria.

As he gradually descended, he was vaguely aware of her crawling back up the bed and nestling against him. The perfection with which their bodies fit together, with their limbs intertwined and her head against his shoulder, did not go unnoticed, even in his sleepy haze. Though some would deem them dangerous and unnatural, whenever she was around, everything simply seemed…_right_.

"I do love you," Bethany said quietly. "And I'm done running. Wherever you are, that's where I'll stay."


	10. The Last Look at the Stars

Bethany always hated to be the bearer of disappointing news. After a lifetime of guilt and deep-seated feelings of blame, regardless of how much her family tried to convince her they were unfounded, she never wanted to risk upsetting those closest to her. Unfortunately, she was sometimes left with no other options.

She could tell by Anders's reaction upon her entrance into the clinic that the dread was clearly displayed across her face. Conversation would have to wait, however, until the patients that were waiting to be treated received medical attention. She bandaged, splinted, prescribed, and cast a number of healing spells, all while anticipating the reaction to what she had to say.

"What's wrong?" Anders asked as soon as the last person was out the door.

She frowned. "I'm not going with you to the Deep Roads."

"But we're supposed to leave tomorrow. Why the sudden change of plans?"

"Mother's worried about us. She knows that Garrett's mind is made up, but if anything should happen down there…." Bethany bit her lower lip and looked down at the floor, remembering the losses the Hawke family had already suffered. "We don't want to leave her alone. So I'm going to stay here."

"I understand." He scratched his head, pondering the situation. "I'm sure your brother wouldn't miss me too much if I also decided to stay behind," he suggested.

"No!" She stepped towards him, and took his hands in hers. "If anything bad _does_ happen, he may need you. We don't know what they're going to find there, and Mother and I will worry less if we know he'll be taken care of." Her face was mere inches from his, and she stared up into his eyes, silently imploring him not to argue. "I need you there to watch over him for me. He's the only brother I have left."

His brow furrowed, and she knew she was asking a lot of him. "I'll go," he simply stated.

Bethany launched herself at him, flinging her arms around his neck in a grateful hug. "You're always so good to me," she murmured in his ear. "This means so much to me, to both of us."

He held her against him. "I'm going to miss you so much."

"Me too. But you're not leaving just yet." She tried to push away the thoughts of their impending separation by concentrating on the present. The nights without him would be cold and lonely. She wanted to ensure she would be able to remember exactly how he felt, how he smelled, how he tasted…_everything_. Reaching up towards him, she buried her fingers in his hair, and pulled him in for a crushing kiss.

Fueled by her intensity, Anders plunged his tongue into her mouth without any semblance of tenderness. Each was driven by a primal urge to sear the memory of their passion into the other's soul, desperate not to be forgotten. In a matter of moments, he had her pinned against the nearest wall, never removing his mouth from hers.

Clothing was removed in a blinding frenzy, and the sound of any tearing fabric went largely ignored. Hands roamed every available inch of flesh, as if touching treasures for the first and last time. Bethany was immobilized, and her chest heaved against his as she broke the kiss to beg for more. He acquiesced, his fingertips blazing a trail to the most sensitive parts of her body. Cupping her between her legs, he teased at the dripping cleft before slipping two fingers inside.

Her knees grew weak, and she would have fallen were he not there to hold her up. His lips and teeth sought out his favorite spot on her neck, and her hips bucked forward against him involuntarily as he bit down. While the two fingers worked their way in and out, his thumb rubbed concise circles on the outside of her. He struck nerves she hadn't even known existed before meeting him, and her cries of pleasure pierced the air.

The first climax erupted and sent her into a series of convulsions. She knew from experience that he wasn't done with her. As soon as she was able to form cohesive thoughts, she groped around for the steely cock she desired so badly. Anders moved his hands back to her hips, and shifted his weight. Just as he was positioned directly in front of her, she stopped him. "Not…not here," she panted. "I can't see you."

He understood what she wanted, and backed away from the wall. Bethany followed him to the bed, and waited for him to lie down so she could slide one leg over his body. Sitting up straight with one hand on his chest for balance, she reached between them and lowered herself onto him. He exhaled as she stretched to accept the entirety of his straining erection. They were joined together at last.

Of everything they had done, this was her favorite way of experiencing the more salacious side of their relationship. When she looked down from this angle, she was rewarded by the sight of seeing him completely at peace. There were no spirits, no Templars, no oppression or injustice; there was only them, nothing but them for a few harmonious moments.

She rocked forward gently, savoring the feeling of their physical and emotional union. He filled her in more ways than one. Bethany tried to memorize every plane, every muscle, every point of contact in anticipation of their upcoming separation, though she couldn't delay their gratification much longer. Her movements became more vigorous, and she soon relinquished control to their mutual lust.

Anders shook as she impaled herself on him over and over. He dug his fingers into the flesh of her hips, slamming her down with each collision of their bodies. The added force sent a tempest of flames roiling over her skin, and the rush of exhilaration was too much to hold back. She moaned his name as the explosion raged within her. Ecstasy overwhelmed her, and she closed her eyes to fully bask in the sensations.

Exhausted, she dropped forward onto him. She rolled to the side, tucking her head into its usual spot between his shoulder and neck. He folded his arms around her, and they breathed in unison, enhancing the most intimate of embraces.

Bethany waited for sleep to overtake her, but it did not come. Drifting into unconsciousness would only hasten his departure, and she wasn't ready to surrender him just yet. When she moved her head ever so slightly to glance upwards, she saw that his eyes were open, staring straight up at the ceiling. "You're still awake," she whispered.

"So are you."

"I'm not ready for it to be tomorrow yet."

"Me neither."

They lay in silence for several minutes before Anders abruptly sat up. "No sense in lying here if we're both wide awake," he said. He arranged the blanket around her shoulders and stood up to grab a second one for himself off one of the cots he used for patients. Returning to her side, he wordlessly extended his hand to her and pulled her up.

She was directly behind him when he opened the door. The alley was empty, and there were no signs of movement as far as the eye could see. He led her outside to the adjacent railing, and stared out over the water that lapped up beneath them.

"When I first came here," he started, "after taking Justice into my body, there was so much I pushed away or ignored. We were so focused on one thing that I nearly forgot about everything else. I hid here in Darktown, and I hadn't realized how much of a wall I had built around myself."

"Then something happened," she said, grinning at him in the dim light.

"Something happened." He draped one arm around her. With his free hand, he gestured upwards. "Someone made me remember to do little things like come out here and look at the stars."

Bethany tightened the blanket around herself and snuggled against him for additional warmth. "They're beautiful, even from down here."

"No matter what happens in the Deep Roads –"

"Don't," she pleaded.

Anders kissed the top of her head, and continued. "No matter what happens in the Deep Roads, I'm glad I was able to see them tonight with someone I love so dearly."

She leaned into his chest. "When you get back – yes, _when_ – we'll go somewhere to get a better view. Maybe we can sneak away to Sundermount one night."

"That sounds wonderful."

Two lovers gazed at the open seas, dreaming of all they wanted to someday share. Their love defied the constraints on their freedom, and kindled the sparks of hope that lived inside them. They stayed huddled together until the first streaks of dawn painted the sky, knowing that not even the upcoming journeys could truly tear them apart.


	11. Deep Conversation

Anders tried to find a comfortable position on the ground, a task that was proving near impossible in the subterranean caverns. Those delegated by Bartrand to organize supplies had had the foresight to pack some sparse accommodations for setting up camp, but the thin mats and coarse blankets offered little in terms of padding and protection. "Blasted Deep Roads," he muttered to himself, rolling over yet again.

Garrett's snoring echoed off the rocky walls inside the cave where they had sprawled out. One of his arms was lazily slung over Isabela's waist, and his sword lay on the other side, ready to be grabbed at a moment's notice. The dismal conditions seemed to have little effect on his ability to rest. "At least some people are able to get some sleep in here," Anders mumbled.

"Still awake?" The sultry voice of the pirate drifted towards him.

"Sorry. I didn't think anyone could hear me."

"I just wasn't sure if you were talking to me or that thing inside your head."

"Very funny."

Isabela carefully extracted herself from Garrett's grasp. The rumbles emitting from his mouth never ceased. After gently laying his arm on the ground, she moved over and sat cross-legged beside Anders. "I couldn't sleep, either. I'm not very comfortable in tight spaces."

"I didn't think anything could make you uncomfortable."

She smirked at him. "It can be our little secret." The light from the fire cast an impish glint in her eyes. "Speaking of secrets…what, exactly, is going on between you and Bethany?"

He tried, albeit unsuccessfully, to bunch part of the mat beneath his head to prop it up at a more suitable angle. "I'm not having this conversation with you."

"I promise I won't tell Hawke! And what makes you think I haven't already heard Bethany's side of things?"

"No."

"The less you tell me, the more I'll just have to make up for myself." Isabela leaned over him, refusing to let him escape her inquisition. "I can just see it now – you two can have a big, fancy Chantry wedding. I suppose Hawke will have to walk her down the aisle. And if you're in the Chantry, you'll both have to tone down that apostate mage bit. Especially you, what with your glowing blue friend. You don't want him to come out in the middle of the ceremony." Anders groaned, but she continued her cheerful blather. "Oh! I just thought of something! Since you're both mages, does that mean that all your children will be able to use magic? Are you going to have a whole litter of baby apostates? Would we call them magelings? Or apostatelets? Either way, they'll be adorable!"

"If I start talking, does that mean you'll stop?"

"Possibly."

He sighed. "Yes, Bethany and I are together. Yes, I love her. Happy now?"

"That's it?"

"What else is there?"

Isabela shook her head. "You really don't know how to tell a good story. You should pay more attention to Varric."

"I didn't realize I'd been brought along to entertain you."

"We're friends," she said. "Having a friendly conversation." He raised an eyebrow at her. "Okay, so maybe we haven't always gotten along. I know you probably find me an irritating distraction half the time." Her mouth hardened into a straight line. "But Bethany's a good girl, and I'm just looking out for her."

"Hawke already covered that."

"There are some details that brothers don't want, or need, to hear."

Anders sighed again. "What do you want to know?"

The sly smile made its appearance once more. "How often has she been spending the night with you? Did you show her that electricity trick? What does her mother think? What are your plans for when we all get out of this place?"

He rubbed his eyes, trying to decide on answers to the barrage of questions. "She stays in the clinic more nights than not these days. I don't know what she's told her mother."

"She must know something at this point."

"One would think. I guess she doesn't disapprove of me."

"That makes things easier." Isabela gave him a playful nudge. "You didn't say what your future plans were."

"That's because I don't know what they are." He saw her start to respond, and he put a hand up to stop her. "I know that doesn't sound very promising. But remember, for people like us, it's difficult to look towards the future with any sort of certainty. If I could, I would give her anything she wanted. I just don't know how much is possible."

"I understand. Or at least I think I do. Neither of us has stayed in one place for very long." She looked down at the ground. "You run because you have to. I run because I don't know any other way to live, and I'm afraid to learn. It's not really fair."

"Why, Isabela! That was quite the astute observation. I didn't realize you were capable of such things!" he teased.

"We'll just add it to our list of secrets."

She'd managed to make him laugh. Perhaps he had initially misjudged the flippant pirate, he thought. "Now that I've shared, it's only fair that I get to ask – what's the story with you and Hawke?"

Isabela cast a glance backwards at the slumbering warrior. "There's not much to tell."

"You mean you haven't…?"

"I know. Shocking, isn't it?"

"Making him work for it, are you?"

"Maybe." She looked back at Anders. "Or maybe I just want to be sure that he knows what he's getting himself into. You know, that whole thing with me not wanting to stay in one place for any set period of time."

"Showing concern for someone other than yourself? You're just full of surprises tonight."

"Don't tell the others. They wouldn't believe you anyway."

"Of course not." He tried to stifle a yawn. It escaped regardless, though it was nearly drowned out by a particularly loud snore coming from Garrett's direction. "If you don't mind, I think I'm going to try to get a little bit of sleep."

"I'll do the same." She was halfway back to her original location, when she turned around to face Anders again. "Before you nod off, I'll share one last secret."

"Oh?"

She paused. "I'm glad you and Bethany found happiness with each other, and I hope to see more of you together. Even if that sort of life isn't for me."

"It could be. You never know."

"We'll see. Good night, Anders."

"Good night."

Anders chuckled to himself as he rolled over beneath his blanket. His arms still felt empty without the warm, breathing body of Bethany to hold beside him, but somehow, knowing that they had another person who believed in their love was almost enough to make up for it. With both the contentment of a new, deeper friendship and the image of his beloved filling his mind, he was finally able to drift off to sleep.


	12. Parallels

Time passed at an agonizingly slow rate. With her brother's team gone, Bethany had little to do but pace restlessly about the few rooms of her uncle's house. At times, the walls seemed to suffocate her, and she was desperate to escape their stifling confinement. The safer areas of Lowtown only held her interest for so long. While she had traveled to the other areas of Kirkwall many times before, she had no desire to wander very far on her own.

Leandra tried to offer her youngest comfort and reassurance. "I know you're worried, dear. I am, too. But looking out the window every three minutes isn't going to make them come back any faster."

"I know." She exhaled loudly, and collapsed into a chair.

"I must say, it is rather touching to see you so concerned about your brother," her mother said with a knowing smile. She didn't answer. "Unless you've been so anxiously awaiting the return of someone else…."

Bethany's head snapped upwards and her eyes widened in surprise. Leandra laughed. "Did you really think I hadn't noticed what was going on? That I didn't know the truth as to why you were spending less and less time here?"

"But...but you never said anything!" she sputtered.

"I was hoping you would eventually confide in me on your own." Leandra stroked her daughter's hair. "I know you're a grown woman now, but I'd always wished I could always be a friend to you."

Bethany contemplated the best way to start what had the potential to be a frightfully awkward conversation. "I love Anders," she said bluntly.

"I had a feeling you might."

"You're not upset?"

"Upset? Why would that make me upset?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Because he's an apostate living in Darktown, and I thought…I thought you wanted better for me," she admitted.

Leandra sat next to her. "Well, it's true that parents always want their children to lead successful, fulfilling lives. I know things already haven't been easy for you and Garrett, and I just want to see my remaining children happy." She folded her hands in her lap and looked down at them. "And I suppose I'm not in any position to judge if you decide to choose a life alongside an apostate. I just hope you would keep me in that life. I don't want to repeat the mistakes my parents made."

"I would never leave you!"

"That's good to hear. I don't regret any of the choices I made, but not a day goes by where I don't wish your grandparents had gotten the opportunity to see you and your siblings at least once."

"If they didn't approve of Father, I doubt they would have thought too kindly of me."

"I prefer to believe that with one look at you, they would have seen the error of their ways." Leandra brushed the hair from Bethany's eyes and cupped her chin in her hand. "My little girl has grown up to be a strong, courageous, compassionate woman. I couldn't be prouder." The first hints of tears appeared in the corners of her eyes. "And if you've found someone else who sees and appreciates all of that, it would be wrong of me to disapprove."

Bethany gave her mother a half-hearted smile before folding her arms on the table and resting her head on them. "I just wish they were back already."

"I do, too."

"Even though I don't know what's going to happen next." She sighed again, something she had been doing quite often in her lover's absence. "Sometimes I feel strange when I'm with him, but not in a bad way. Even though he makes me feel safe, I can't help but be anxious about the future. I'm so happy with him, and then I wonder if maybe it's too good to be true."

"Welcome to being in love, my child. Your feelings will level out eventually. Everything is new and thrilling at this point, like the moment when you first light a fire and the flames snap to life. It soon calms down to a slower burn, but as long as you are attentive and nurture it, it will keep going. Love is the same way – it may not always be as glamorous and dazzling as it was in the initial moments, but as long as you take care of it, it will be there to keep you warm."

Bethany looked up at her. "You didn't know Father for very long before you ran away with him."

"You're right."

"So how did you know things were going to work out?"

"I didn't." She wasn't satisfied with her mother's answers, and Leandra could tell. "There is an element of luck in all of life's pursuits. I'm old enough now that I can dispense sage advice from my own observations."

"I'd just feel better if I could be assured that everything was going to be okay in the end."

Leandra chuckled. "Wouldn't we all. Things usually do have a way of working themselves out, but you don't want to miss out on all the ups and downs of the journey." She patted her daughter's arm. "I had hoped that with all this time you've spent with Garrett since we escaped from Lothering, some of your better qualities would rub off on each other. As much as I may lose sleep over his antics some nights, one does have to admire his carefree spirit. Similarly, I know that you help keep him grounded and remind him when it's necessary to be more responsible."

She offered another weak smile. "I know I haven't been very good company since they left. I'll try to be in better spirits."

Leandra stood up. "Let's see if we can distract each other. Shall we go out and see if we can get some fresh food for tonight's dinner?"

Bethany obediently followed her mother out to the marketplace. She had never intended to keep secrets from her, and she did have to admit she felt a little better after their friendly chat. Life with an apostate for a partner had blessed her mother with love, if for too short a time. She could only pray she would be lucky enough to follow the family tradition.

* * *

_**AN**: So we're rapidly approaching the end of Act I. Big thanks to everyone who's read, left reviews, and/or messaged me. This has been fun so far! For those of you who have speculated as to what's coming up next - you're probably exactly, 100% right. Because if someone in Dragon Age II is actually happy about something, obviously it can only last for about 30 seconds..._


	13. Loss Part 1

"Ah, the stench of Lowtown." A wide grin spread across Garrett's face. "Never in my life did I think I would ever be so glad to smell the rotting vegetation and unwashed bodies. I guess this really is home."

Anders mirrored his expression as he followed him through the dimly-lit streets. "Can't say I disagree. I'll be honest with you, Hawke – there were times when I didn't think we'd make it out of the Deep Roads alive."

"What, you thought that being fucked over by Varric's brother and having to battle a rock wraith to escape was cause for concern?"

"No. Of course not," the mage said flatly. "I wasn't concerned at all when I had to drag your limp body behind that pillar to see if could get you breathing again."

"So we got a few scratches." Garrett laughed. "It was all worth it! I can't wait to get out of Gamlen's dump of a house."

"Still planning on elbowing your way into Kirkwall's nobility?"

"Eventually. But first, we celebrate." He lengthened his strides, apparently eager to get back to the home he claimed to despise so much. "I'll give Mother a kiss, show her I'm not dead, we'll grab Bethany, and join the others at The Hanged Man. Whose bed I finally collapse into remains to be seen."

The pair wound their way through the dusty alleys. As they approached the steps to their destination, muffled voices drifted through the door that had been left ajar. Garrett stopped at the bottom of the staircase to listen, preventing his companion from proceeding. "Wait here," he whispered before entering the house.

Anders did as he was told, and tried to make out what was going inside. Not long after he disappeared from view, Garrett's voice boomed through the quiet neighborhood. "Over my dead body!" he bellowed. His declaration was soon accompanied by his mother's audible wails.

"_Bethany…._" Something was clearly wrong. Anders's stomach twisted in knots as thoughts of what could have happened raced through his mind. He fought the urge to charge up the stairs, choosing to let the Hawkes have their privacy until he knew more details of the situation. Leandra's cries grew louder as the door opened wider, and he tried to distinguish the additional voices.

A small group of people descended the steps, the men clad in identical armor. Templars. He had just enough time to flatten himself against the lower wall, letting the darkness conceal his body. Surrounded by the soldiers was Bethany – she was not restrained, yet there was no chance of escape. Her head was down, and her hair obscured most of her face as they led her by his hiding spot.

Anders held his breath and tried to remain completely motionless as his sworn enemies passed mere feet in front of him. Her gaze flicked upwards, and for a singular moment, the lovers were locked in an endless stare. All that had transpired between them was captured in one last, longing look that seemed to both last for eternity and end far too soon. Before her captors could notice, she snapped her head away, and then she was gone.

Gone. Arrested. Imprisoned. Forced to endure whatever rites deemed necessary to ensure "safety", not only for the citizens of Kirkwall, but allegedly for Bethany herself. He knew she was in no danger of succumbing to demons, but those in power weren't always so easily convinced. If they should kill her, or even make her Tranquil….

Rage bubbled up inside Anders like a viscous liquid that threatened to choke the life out of him. The voice of Justice thundered through his head, an incessant drum pounding as he struggled to maintain control. "_Not out here, not with them so close by_," he silently pleaded. Through the spirit's demands, he could still make out the pitiful sounds of Leandra's sobs, newly joined by Garrett's attempts to calm her down. That the Templars hadn't taken them into custody as well for harboring an apostate was nothing short of miraculous, and Anders didn't want to endanger them any further. With little else to do, he ran.

The streets of Lowtown melded into a blur of dirt and shadows as he sprinted home. He crossed into Darktown without slowing down, and he didn't come to a stop until he had finally barricaded himself into the clinic. His lungs burned as they sought out sufficient oxygen, and he doubled over as he wheezed and coughed. Once he was able to breathe more normally, he slumped against the wall and slid down until he reached the floor.

They had taken her. His, sweet, beautiful, wonderful Bethany had been ripped from her home, and out of his arms. She was yet another victim of all the injustice the mages faced, and her fate was no longer hers to decide.

_"The mages must be freed."_

The shared thoughts echoed through Anders's mind as he tried to come up with a plan. While he had escaped from the Circle many times before, it had been in Ferelden. Kirkwall's mages were kept in the Gallows, housed in cells initially designed for slaves. Penetrating the massive fortress was going to be significantly harder.

_"The Templars must be stopped."_

He, along with Justice, had been trying for years to help his fellow mages, and find a way to put an end to the cruelties they faced. It was a noble cause, yet he had little to show for it. Now there was a newfound sense of urgency, but he was finding it near impossible to think through the storm of emotions that was tearing him to shreds.

A knock at the door drew him out of his haze. He was in no mood for visitors, and ignored it. The polite rapping turned into heavier thumps. "The clinic is closed!" he shouted.

"Don't make me break it down." Despite the thick wood, Garrett's voice was unmistakable.

Anders didn't need to deal with a missing door on top of everything else, and he begrudgingly got up to open it. "What are you doing here? I thought you'd be at The Hanged Man by now," he said bitterly.

"Believe me, it's on my list of stops to make."

"That doesn't answer the question."

Garrett eyed him warily. "I figured I'd drop by and make sure you weren't doing anything stupid." He didn't answer. "Uh, this is the part where you're supposed to say, 'Oh, Hawke! Of course I wasn't going to do anything stupid! Don't you worry!'"

"_Something_ has to be done. Not just for Bethany, but for all mages everywhere. Maybe this will finally make you see that I've been right all along."

"Hey, I never disagreed with you in the first place." A dark look came into Garrett's eyes, and he grimaced. "I understand the urge to march into Templar Hall and run my sword through the bastards who took her. I really do. But we're not going to do that tonight. She wouldn't want us to. She'd never want bloodshed in her name."

Anders rubbed his temples with his thumb and forefinger. He saw the logic in his words, but to concede he was right would mean admitting defeat. "I'm not giving up on her."

"No one is, least of all Bethany herself. Being sent to the Circle isn't an automatic death sentence. She'll get through this." Garrett nodded towards the door. "Come on. We both need a drink. My treat tonight."

"No, thank you. I'm really not in the mood for the tavern tonight."

"It wasn't a question."

"No."

Garrett's eyes narrowed again. "Have it your way, then." He dusted off the nearest cot before grabbing a blanket and laying it on top. "I'll sleep anywhere, I don't care."

"What do you think you're doing?"

"You haven't convinced me yet that you're not going to do anything rash, like go set fire to the Gallows as soon as I leave. If you're not coming with me, then I guess I'm staying here." He folded his arms across his chest. "I already lost a sister today. I'm not going to risk losing another friend."

It was the closest thing to a heartfelt display of emotion Anders had ever seen from the warrior. He didn't know whether to laugh, cry, or write him off as having finally lost his mind. The day seemed destined to be filled with losing battles. "Fine. I'll go," he said with a dejected sigh.

Garrett all but pushed him out the door. "Let's go drink until we forget about the Deep Roads, the Templars, and everything short of our own names."


	14. Loss Part 2

The thick stone walls offered no warmth in the dreary room. To refer to it as her bedchambers would have been far too genial a term, for Bethany knew what it really was: a cell. There were two beds inside, but the other one remained unoccupied. Whether that meant the number of apostates was increasing, or if it was the number of Circle mages slaughtered by the Templars, she didn't know.

She had done her best to remain strong in the presence of her oppressors. They would not find weakness in her, and she had maintained a stoic demeanor while being taken to her assigned space. She had caught glimpses of other areas in the great hall as they had led her throughout the corridors, and she began to formulate ideas for her future.

There was no laughter, or any signs of happiness anywhere. The statues lining the hallways sent a ripple of dread throughout her body, their solid forms twisted in a commemoration of suffering. Logically, she knew that the mages of Kirkwall's Circle must be allowed to associate and socialize with each other at times, but no such meetings were currently occurring.

The children simultaneously filled her with hope and crushed her with despair. Their innocence was to be envied and pitied, as they knew no other way of life. For the first time, Bethany was able to see with clarity what her family had protected her from. While the young mages had the benefit of associating with others who shared the same skills, they would never see the outside of Kirkwall. For some, journeys outside the Gallows would never be allowed. They could be robbed of their humanity via the Rite of Tranquility, or even killed outright should they be deemed a danger to themselves or others.

They would never feel the bliss of running through a grassy field, or the excitement of sailing across the tumultuous seas. They would never be able to idly browse the shops in the marketplaces, or know the simple joy of meeting friends in a tavern for drinks and entertainment. They would never be allowed to fall in love, to raise families of their own, and create a legacy outside the Circle.

Bethany was grateful for all she had been able to experience before being apprehended. The tragedies she had witnessed were balanced out by the joys she had felt. She hoped her memories of her previous life, both good and bad, would be enough to sustain her through whatever lay in store for her. Once she passed her Harrowing and convinced the Templars she was not a threat or had any plans for escape, she would be allowed limited contact with the outside world. It would take some time to adjust to the ways of the Circle, but she tried to remain optimistic that there was still more for her to accomplish.

She sat at the edge of the bed, pulling her new robes around her. No matter how much she tried to focus on uplifting thoughts, there was no denying the stinging shock of the day's events. Thoughts of her father drifted into her mind like a cold wind, and for a moment, she felt as if she had failed him. He'd spent his life on the run from the Templars, and had devoted himself to keeping her out of their clutches. All of it had been for naught.

A lump formed in her throat, and she tried to divert her attention to something else. For once, she actually found herself missing her brother's unpredictable personality and ill-timed jokes. She tried to imagine what Garrett would say if he was in the cell with her. Perhaps he would comment on the hideous clothing they had forced her to wear, or make crude gestures behind the Templars' backs. The speculation was almost enough to bring a smile to her face.

The boost to her spirits disappeared almost as quickly as it had begun. Would Garrett always feel guilty for not being there to protect her? Was Mother blaming him like she did for Carver's death? What would have happened if he had been in Kirkwall in the days leading up to her arrest? What would have happened if she had joined him on the expedition to the Deep Roads as originally planned?

Thoughts of the Deep Roads led Bethany's mind to the one topic she had been trying so desperately to avoid. Not only did she feel like she had somehow disappointed all her loved ones, she couldn't bear to think of how she'd stumbled into the fate that Anders had feared for both of them. The whole time they'd been together, he'd worried that he would lead the Templars straight to her, only for them to arrive when he was gone. The irony left a bitter taste in her mouth.

The realization that she may never see him again was difficult to ignore, yet painful to accept. They had only just started down their shared path together, and she had been yanked away just as they had discovered all the exquisite wonders life had to offer. It was brutally unfair.

The first tear dripped down her cheek. She'd kept her face a blank slate since being taken into custody, and had shown no outward signs of emotion. Throughout the entire day, she had promised herself that she wouldn't cry. Though she couldn't see outside from her windowless cell, she knew night had fallen. After so many hours, she felt her resolve weakening.

A second tear joined the first. She wiped her eyes with her sleeve and tried to fight back the slew of grief that threatened to spill forth. A distraction came in the form of a shadow darkening the doorway, and she blinked twice before looking up through the bars.

"Mistress Bethany," a masked Templar addressed her. Three more stood behind him.

"Yes?"

He unlocked the grating. "Come with us."

"Where are we going?"

"It is time for your Harrowing."

Her jaw dropped in surprise. "But…but I just got here! Now? Why so soon?"

"It is time." His voice was deep and unwavering.

She had no choice but to stand up and follow his orders. They flanked her on all sides, and led her down a nearby flight of stairs. The air was cold and damp, and she soon realized they were leading her underground. Her facial expression never changed as she tried to swallow back her fear.

To think that she would ever succumb to a demon was ludicrous. She had faced them plenty of times before, but she had always had someone at her side to help her fight, and it had been in the physical plane. Details of how the Harrowing rituals were conducted in Kirkwall had been a well-kept secret, and she didn't know what to expect. Theoretically, anything was possible in the Fade. She wasn't even sure whether the Templars here wanted her to pass or fail.

Bethany's hands grew clammy and her heart raced in her chest. Death could be mere hours away. She might never have a chance to see her family and friends again and tell them how much she loved them. A sob tried to escape her throat, and she covered it up with a cough. "_You can do this. You will be successful,_" she repeated to herself.

Amidst her mantras, she thought of her father once more. He had taught her everything he knew, and she would not disappoint him again. Her mother and Garrett would be waiting to hear news of her fate, and she would not let them down. Lastly, she thought of Anders. Not only had he loved her as a partner, he had respected her as a mage. Were he with her, she knew that he would have zero doubts as to the outcome of the Harrowing.

They approached a solid wooden door. Bethany stared at it with apprehension, reaching down within herself to find the confidence she knew existed. One of her guards unlocked it and pushed it open. The room was dark and she couldn't make out any details from where she was standing. With the support of her loved ones at the front of her mind, she took a deep breath and stepped inside.


	15. Ghosts

Everywhere Anders looked, he saw reminders of Bethany. From the neat little rows of alphabetically-organized potions in his workspace, to the rumpled covers from their last night together, her presence in the clinic was undeniable. Her laughter echoed in his ears, and his flesh ached from the absence of her touch. Every time the door opened, he swore she would be the one to walk through it. Every time someone else crossed the threshold, disappointment crushed his heart once more.

Garrett had been successful in his attempts to persuade him not to do anything rash. The elder Hawke had convinced him that any sort of forced entry into the Gallows would only reflect poorly on Bethany and could endanger her further. Anders had begrudgingly agreed, but he couldn't help but lie awake at night and imagine daring plans. Escape always featured heavily in these musings. More than anything, though, he just wanted some sort of confirmation that she was okay.

Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. While Garrett took the necessary actions to reclaim his family's estate, Anders returned to treating those in need. He settled back into his former routine, and bitterly marveled at how easy it had been to do so. People still needed medical attention, the threat of Templars still lurked behind every corner, and life went on. The pain never truly went away, and he never stopped thinking about her. Each day made it easier to drag himself out of bed. Once his energy returned, he vowed to resume his efforts to help liberate all mages, not just her, and not just in Kirkwall.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed since the expedition to the Deep Roads when Garrett bounded into his clinic, grinning from ear to ear. Upon seeing that he was alone, Anders raised an eyebrow. "No entourage today?" he asked.

Garret ignored him, and waved an envelope around excitedly. "She's alive! Bethany's alive!"

Anders sank into a chair, his knees weak and his pulse fluttering. "She's…? Oh, thank the Maker."

"She passed her Harrowing and seems to be settling in nicely. I guess they trust her enough now to let her send letters outside the Circle. She says they might be giving her more responsibilities soon, too."

"That's the best we could hope for, I suppose."

"She sounds happy enough. Mother and I will go visit her as soon as it's allowed. We just have to work out the details with the Knight-Captain." Garrett scratched his head and frowned. "You coming with us probably isn't a good idea," he said apologetically.

"I don't think the Templars take kindly to apostates breezing in and out of their Hall with little regard for their authority, no."

"Bethany will understand." He opened the envelope. "There were two letters in here, actually. The second one didn't have a name on it, but I assumed it was for you."

Anders took the folded piece of paper from his outstretched hand. "Thank you."

Neither man moved. The mage coughed. "Oh!" Garrett said, his usual smile returning. "I'll give you your privacy while you read it."

"I'm surprised you don't know what it says already."

"Maybe I do, maybe I don't." Garrett winked at him. "If you write a response, let me know, and I'll see that it gets to her. I know you don't like leaving any sort of a trail that could lead the Templars down here to you, so I'll be discreet. I promise I won't even read the contents!"

"That's very kind of you."

Anders waited until he was alone to read the letter. To his surprise, only a few short lines were written in a neat cursive. His hand trembled as he read the words for which he had waited so long.

"_When they came for me, the thought of using blood magic never even crossed my mind. I realized later that it was because of you. You would have never looked at me the same way again, and no matter what happened, I wouldn't have been able to live with that._

_-Bethany"_

He closed his eyes and sighed. Even when filled with trepidation and facing the unknown, she had thought of him. He wasn't sure whether that comforted him or not. The letter wasn't an emotional missive of love and devotion, but after more consideration, he decided that it wouldn't have been fair to expect such a thing. Bethany's life had suffered a massive upheaval, along with his, and he accepted that her priorities needed to be elsewhere.

What they were had brought them together. What he was would now keep them apart. He knew that Garrett was right – it would be far too risky for him to attempt to see Bethany at the Circle. Were he to be apprehended, there was no way the Templars would let him live once they learned of the spirit that lived inside him. As painful as it was, he would keep his distance until he could think of a better solution.

Anders tried to console himself with the simple fact that his beloved Bethany was alive and safe for the time being. He remembered Garrett's offer and debated whether or not to start composing a reply to her right away. Knowing that he would not rest until he had written a letter of his own, he sat down and reached for a sheet of paper.

All the words and thoughts he'd been thinking since the day of her arrest jumbled into an incomprehensible mass in his mind, and his pen refused to move. Her brief note hadn't given him any hints as to what she wanted to hear from him at this time. She had been gone from him for so long. Her sudden reappearance had startled him and caught him off guard, almost like he had seen a ghost. He wanted to be optimistic that their love would survive, but he didn't want to offer any false promises. Also weighing on his mind was the possibility that her mail could be confiscated and read. Safety was still a concern for both the Circle mage and the apostate.

The more he pondered the possible contents of his letter, the more he realized the exact words didn't matter. They had loved each other, and he had faith that their love was still alive. He refused to believe that he would never see her again. Time was irrelevant. He was certain the opportunity would one day come. With this in mind, he finally began to write.

"_My dearest Bethany,_

_You will never know how much joy it brought me to hear that you are alive and doing well. A piece of me left with you that day, a piece of my heart that still belongs to you and you alone. You've constantly been in my thoughts, and though I wish you were in my arms right now, I will rest more easily tonight and recall happier times with less apprehension. _

_In regards to your previously stated concerns: you should never, ever worry about my opinion of you or how I look upon you. I love you, and nothing will ever change that. Until we can see each other again, just look up at the stars and remember that I'm watching them with you. _

_All my love,_

_-A "_


	16. Finding a Purpose

**_AN:_**_ So we're rapidly approaching Act 2. Yay! Just a couple quick notes - first off, though they're on my "to-do" list, I still haven't managed to play through any of the DLCs yet. I sort of know what happens, but I don't feel comfortable writing about them without playing them, so those events won't be found in here. Also, I may wind up tweaking the timeline *just* a little bit here and there. All in the name of good storytelling, I promise!_

* * *

_Bethany sat in front of the mirror. She was alone in the empty room. Her hair was perfectly coiffed, and her white lace dress was buttoned up the back, but there were no signs of anyone who may have helped dress her. The colorless hue of her gown blended with the bare walls, and, save for her stool and the mirror, all the furniture had been removed. _

_She stood up and looked around. The soles of her shoes tapped on the hardwood floor as she searched the area. "Mother?" she tentatively called out. The only response was the echo of her own voice. _

_At the far corner of the room was a closed door. Bethany felt her stomach tighten as she remembered what had happened the last time she opened it. Her fear briefly incapacitated her, but she knew she couldn't stay in the room forever. She reached for the knob and pulled, the squeal of the hinges piercing the air as it opened. _

_No one was waiting for her outside. "Mother?" she called again. Silence. She proceeded down the corridor until she reached the top of a staircase. There were no signs of anyone but her in the building. "Mother? Garrett?" She looked around, unsure if this was some sort of trap. "…Anders?"_

_She was completely, utterly alone. There was nothing to be afraid of. There was nothing at all. She meandered around the empty hallways, trapped in an endless maze of featureless rooms and deafening solitude…._

Bethany's eyelids fluttered and she was actually glad to see the gray stone walls of her assigned room. The space still bore a strong resemblance to a cell for a captured slave, but it had been remodeled to give it a cozier feel than the first enclosure she had seen since her arrival at the Circle. No roommate had been assigned to her yet, and she had taken care to keep her meager belongings to one side. The temperature wasn't as cold as it had been on the lower levels. Shrugging the blanket off her body, she swung her feet off the bed and stood up on the simple rug that lined the floor.

A folded note lay at the bottom of her door, slipped underneath sometime while she was slumbering. She crouched down to retrieve the piece of paper and opened it up. Scanning it quickly, she learned that she had been summoned to a meeting with First Enchanter Orsino in an hour's time.

She placed the note on her desk and pondered the purpose of the meeting. She had only met Orsino once or twice, and she didn't think she had done anything to make a strong impression. Nothing she had done would have attracted any negative attention. She believed that the First Enchanter truly had the mages' best interests in mind. While she was perplexed by his wanting to speak with her, she was unconcerned.

Bethany dressed quickly, brushing her hair after donning her blue robes. Once she was ready, she opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. It was no longer mandated that a guard follow her wherever she went, and she was allowed to freely move about the areas of the hall dedicated to the Circle.

An aide led her into Orsino's office. She took a seat, only to rise again when the gray-haired elf entered the room. He waved at her to sit back down, and she took her place at the very edge of the chair, her hands folded in her lap and her head bowed slightly.

"Welcome, Bethany," he said. "I'm glad to see you received my request."

She nodded humbly. "How may I be of service to you, First Enchanter?"

He smiled. "There's no need to be so formal. Call me Orsino, and please, relax." She did as she was told, and he continued. "I'm glad to see you were able to adapt and become acclimated to our ways so easily."

"Thank you, Fi…Orsino."

"I will be honest with you, however." His expression darkened. "I was a bit nervous when you arrived here. There was no way to tell what sort of training you had, or what you may have been exposed to, as you had lived as an apostate for so long. There was also the matter of your father's…history with the Circle."

"I have no plans of attempting an escape," she told him honestly.

"That's good to hear." The warm smile made its appearance again. "As I said, you've been able to adjust quite nicely. You passed your Harrowing without any problems, and you're friendly and courteous to the others here. You really are becoming an exemplary Circle Mage."

She blushed. "Thank you."

"Now that that's out of the way, I did have a reason to bring you here other than to shower you with compliments." Orsino leaned back in his chair and tapped his fingers together in front of his chin. "How would you feel about teaching some of the apprentices?"

"Teaching?" She tilted her head to the side. "I'd never really thought about it before."

"I think you'd do a fine job. Your pleasant disposition and the patience you've displayed would endear you to your students, I believe. You'll be an excellent role model for them."

She didn't have to consider his proposition for very long. "I'd like to give it a try."

"Wonderful!" He stood up again. "I'll work on assigning you a group. You can start first thing tomorrow morning."

Bethany thanked him once more and made her exit. Excitement over her new assignment tickled her as she returned to her room. Tiny pricks of nervousness tempered her joy at being trusted with such a task, but they were subdued by the anticipation of the following day's activities. Though she had not grown up in the Circle, her father's teachings had shaped her into a powerful, yet responsible mage. Passing those lessons along to younger generations would be the most significant way to thank him for all he had shown her.

She sat down at her desk and penned a quick note to her mother and brother informing them of the news. Once it was completed and sealed in an envelope, she eyed the stack of stationery again. While she had maintained correspondence with Anders, part of her sometimes felt as if she shouldn't tell him of the contentment she had found within the Circle. She knew his feelings on that particular topic, and she knew he would never change his mind. Given the choice, she would have preferred to be with him. It was an unlikely possibility, however, and she needed to make the best out of what she had.

Twirling the pen in her fingers, Bethany debated whether to write a second letter or not. Would Anders be able to share in her happiness? Would he take some comfort in knowing that young mages were going to be trained by someone like her? Or would he just continue to decry all of the Circle's policies and anything related to them?

She tried to remember how long it had been since she had last seen him. Some quick mental calculations revealed it to be almost a year, if not longer. She missed him just as much as she missed the rest of her family and friends, if not more so since she had never gotten the opportunity to see him since the Templars arrived. Her love for him had never diminished in all that time, though she suspected she would always have to love from afar. Confident that his feelings for her would outweigh any misgivings he had about the containment of the mages from early childhood, she grabbed a fresh sheet of paper and began to write.


	17. Friends, New and Old

Anders barely flinched as an arrow went whizzing by his ear. He pointed his staff at the archer and sent a rapid blast of ice in retaliation. Raiders had taken over the southern point of the Wounded Coast, and the guards sent to dispose of them were struggling. Always one to be in the right place at the right time (or the wrong place at the wrong time, as was sometimes the case), Garrett and his team had stumbled upon the ongoing fracas and offered assistance.

The captain of the guard was accompanying them that day. Both Aveline and Garrett had succeeded in motivating the soldiers to continue on with their assignment, and Anders found himself fighting alongside new allies. He took little notice of the troops, other than being sure not to hit anyone with his spells.

He and Aveline generally kept their distance from each other. Despite Garrett's reassurance, he didn't trust the captain, as she was fully aware that he was an apostate. Aveline herself couldn't come up with a good reason for not apprehending him, and he suspected that Garrett's influence was the only thing keeping him safe in Darktown.

Isabela always remained at the warrior's side. With Bethany still at the Circle, Garrett frequently called on his other companions to join him on his various travels. Their presence did nothing to alleviate the pain of Bethany's absence. Varric was tolerable, and his proficiency with his beloved crossbow often came in handy. Anders begrudgingly accepted Aveline's defensive skills, even though he was still half-convinced that she would lead the Templars to his sanctuary one of these days. Both of Garrett's elven friends were downright insufferable. The white-haired swordsman openly hated mages, and the foolish girl dabbled in blood magic. The less time spent in their company, Anders thought, the better.

Another arrow diverted his attention back to the matter at hand. The raiders were putting up quite the fight, and he unleashed nearly every spell in his arsenal. At the center of the enemy group was a blood mage, his illicit techniques drawing extra ire from him. Isabela attacked the blood mage from behind, but she was thrown backwards by a whirlwind of dark energy. While Garrett sought to avenge the violent act with his sword, Anders tried to keep his distance as he healed the damage.

Their foes put up a good fight, yet they were eventually outnumbered. Aveline met up with the leader of the guardsmen who had been dispatched to the area in the middle of a ring of bodies. Lieutenant Harley was out of breath, but she was able to express her gratitude. "Thank you, Captain. I don't know what we would have done had you not shown up."

Garrett coughed, and Aveline ignored him. "Just as long as the matter is settled."

"Lieutenant Jalen will want to hear about what happened. I'll start writing up my official report."

"We'll go speak to him now, give him the basic details." Aveline turned to face Garrett. "He'll be at the Keep. You should come along."

"Aye aye, Captain." He gave her a mock salute.

With little else to do, Anders and Isabela dutifully followed along. The Viscount's Keep ranked marginally higher than the Gallows in Anders's esteem, but if there was coin involved, Garrett would usually toss some his way. He hung back and said nothing while the battle involving the raiders and the guard was discussed. As soon as Jalen left, Harley and her team arrived at the bottom of the staircase.

"Lieutenant Jalen has been apprised of the situation," Aveline told her. "He will expect your report tomorrow."

Harley breathed a sigh of relief. "He'll get it, I promise." She nodded to those under her command. "But first, we're going to change out of this armor and go for a quick drink. Please say you'll join us! We owe you!"

Aveline hesitated, but Garrett readily agreed. "Sounds great! Just tell us when and where!"

"As we do have work to do, we were just going to stay in the barracks. We _are_ allowed to have a little fun in there, after all."

"Ooh, like a private club? Exciting!" Isabela grinned. "Aveline must be going soft in her old age to let you have such a thing!"

The captain maintained her stoic expression. "As long as everyone's duties are completed efficiently and properly, it's not a problem."

Harley was pleased. "Then it's settled! Meet us inside. We won't take long."

Anders attempted to slip away quietly, but Garrett grabbed his sleeve and pulled him back before he could make his escape. "I'm sure the invitation extended to you," the warrior said.

"You go ahead. I think I'll just head home."

"You almost got your head taken off by those raiders, just like the rest of us. I think you need to join us in our celebration of life. Come on!"

He relented, and soon found himself sitting at a crowded table in a back room of the barracks. Even Aveline had joined them, and he decided that she was slightly preferable to either of the elves, though maybe not as entertaining as Varric. He trusted her to keep his true identity hidden in a room full of law enforcement officers. Harley and her colleagues arrived soon after, the metal plates and helmets that had covered their bodies discarded in their bunks.

The makeshift tavern was noisy. Anders wanted to convince himself that the rowdy soldiers offered a needed break from the solitary nights in the clinic. He had been working with a mage underground movement to help free those who wanted to escape from the Circle, but he took caution to not get overly involved in fear for his own safety. The distance he kept led to a lack of companionship outside Garrett's ragtag group of friends. Thinking that he should be focusing all his energy on plans to help the mages, he chose to believe it was for the best.

A full mug was placed in front of him. He didn't drink from it. Garrett and Isabela were pretending to listen to a drunken soldier's anecdotes, sneaking kisses and furtive gropes when they thought no one else was watching. Aveline supervised the scene from farther away. Anders was debating how much longer to stay before surreptitiously taking his leave when someone landed in the seat next to him. "You haven't touched the drink I bought for you," she said.

He nodded in greeting. "Thank you, Lieutenant Harley, but –"

"No one uses their ranks in here. Call me Janis."

"Thank you, Janis, but I…I really don't drink."

"That's fine." She studied him intently. "I don't think I got your name today."

"It's Anders."

"Nice to meet you, Anders." She held out her hand, and he hesitantly accepted the offered gesture. "You don't really say much, do you?"

"Depends on who you ask." He extracted himself from her lingering grip.

Janis laughed. "There's nothing wrong with a man who waits for the right moment to speak his mind."

She was flirting with him, and he knew it. He just wasn't sure how he felt about it. "Sometimes, I just get the feeling that people don't have any interest in what I have to say."

"That can't possibly be true. Go ahead, tell me something. I'll listen intently."

"I…I'm sorry. I'm afraid I'm not much fun in settings like this."

She slipped her hand under the table and rested it on his leg. "We can go somewhere quieter, if you'd like."

Anders studied her. Though she had the appearance of a weary soldier who had seen far too many battles, she wasn't entirely unpleasing to the eye. She was certainly friendly enough. As she leaned in towards him, awaiting his response, he knew that despite whatever had drawn her to him, she would never understand him. They were obviously different people who believed in different things. He had no desire to find out if they could get past that, even for one night.

He stood up and eyed the distance between the table and the door. "Thank you, but it's getting late. I really should be heading home." Her disappointment was palpable, yet he had made up his mind. "Have a good night, Lieutenant."

Anders exited the Keep and began the trek to Darktown. Along the way, he pondered what he had passed up, and questioned if it had been the right decision. His thoughts inevitably turned to Bethany, and he was forced to face the grief that still lingered from her loss.

Three years. It had been three long years since he had seen her last. He had moved on as much as he could, but it was moments like this that reopened old wounds. She was safe, and she seemed to be happy. The feelings of bitterness over her mandatory entrance to the Circle had never fully dissipated, and he doubted they ever would.

He still wrote her letters, and anticipated her replies. Were she to suddenly reappear in the flesh, he was certain they could pick up precisely where they left off. Every time he heard of a new group of escapees in the mage underground, he couldn't help but hope she would be one of them. Nothing she had written had given any inclination that she was considering running from the Circle, but the dream quietly lived on.

As much as he had tried to move forward, it was only fair to expect her to do the same. When long periods of time passed between her letters, he wondered if she was gradually letting go of him. Sometimes he thought it would be best for her, for both of them. Tonight, however, he felt the urge to reach out to her. After making sure the doors to the clinic were securely locked, Anders sat down at his desk and relied on his words to do what his body could not.


	18. Nothing Remains

Enough light shone through the narrow windows of Templar Hall to illuminate the mages' designated areas with a cheery glow. Bethany left a classroom, one of her students in tow. Ella had earned the gently teasing nickname of "Shadow" by some of the elders, for wherever Bethany went, she was never too far behind. Though several years and a lifetime of different experiences separated the two young women, they had formed a close friendship.

"Do you really think I'm ready?" the younger girl asked.

"Of course! Haven't I and the others taught you well?"

"Oh yes!" Ella wasn't as confident as her instructor about the results of her upcoming Harrowing. "I'm still nervous, though!"

They continued their chatter as they moved throughout the hallways. Before they could enter the residential wing, they were stopped by one of the Templars. "Mistress Bethany," he said. "You have a visitor downstairs."

"A visitor?" None of the letters she'd received recently had indicated that anyone was coming to see her.

"Yes. Please come with me."

She waved Ella off and followed the guard to the wide stone staircase. Waiting for her at the bottom was her brother. "Garrett! I wasn't expecting you."

He said nothing, and raised an eyebrow at the man who had escorted her. They were led into a smaller office off the main chamber. Once they were left alone, she faced Garrett again. There was no hint of any carefree jocularity on his face. In fact, she couldn't recall ever seeing her brother so serious, except for perhaps the day she had been arrested. "What are you doing here? What's wrong?"

"It's…it's Mother."

A chill gripped Bethany's body, covering her in a cold sweat. "Mother?" she squeaked. "What happened?"

Silence.

"_What happened_, Garrett?"

He stepped closer to her, and she braced herself for his words. "She's dead."

Dark waves clouded her vision, the room swirling in front of her in a nauseating storm. She struggled against the shock and grief, and put her hand on the wall to help maintain her balance. "How?"

The elder Hawke shook his head. "No, I'm –"

"Tell me!" Bethany flew towards him, intending to beat the information out of him if necessary, but only crumpled against him as the first tears streaked down her face. "Tell me. I need to know."

"I don't want to put such terrible visions inside your head. I wouldn't do that to you. I'll bear that burden for both of us."

She rested her head against his chest and accepted his embrace, a rarity for the siblings. "Not knowing is worse. Please, I have to know what happened to Mother."

He sighed. "She was killed. Murdered. If it's any consolation, I made that bastard pay for everything he did."

"Who would do such a thing?" She didn't get a response. "Garrett…."

"He was a blood mage. And that's all I'm going to tell you, other than that I was able to be with her at the very end."

Bethany relented and accepted his requests. She pulled away from him, anxiously twisting the fabric of her robe in her hands. "I'm glad. I just wish…." There were so many ways she could have finished her sentence, yet none of them seemed to be enough.

"The others send their condolences," he said. "Aveline said she might come visit you in another day or so." Garrett looked down at the floor. "And, of course, Anders just feels terrible. If he could, he would –"

"I know. But he can't."

"…I'm sorry."

"It's okay," she lied. "I came to terms with our situation long ago."

The last of the Hawkes stayed in the secluded room until nightfall, sharing memories and offering each other what little comfort they could. The same man from earlier appeared to let them know it was time to part ways. "I'll try to come back in a few days," Garrett said.

Bethany nodded. "Take care of yourself, brother. Don't be afraid to accept your friends' help at this time."

She proceeded to her chambers. As soon as the door was closed, she collapsed to the floor, sobbing. The empty room served as a reminder of how alone she truly was, and how there was no one nearby to console her. Her cries echoed off the stone walls, and she rested her head on her knees.

She didn't know how long she had been in that position before there was a knock at the door. "Bethany?" called a familiar voice.

Dragging herself to her feet, she wiped her eyes with the edge of her sleeve and turned the knob. Ella stood in the hallway, and her eyes widened when she saw her mentor. "Oh, Bethany! What's wrong?"

"I received some distressing news today." She tried to smile on behalf of her young friend. "I'll be okay, though. It'll just take some time."

"I was so worried! They took you away so quickly, and I kept checking on you, but you weren't coming back…." Ella flung her arms around her waist in a hug that caught the older mage by surprise. "I'm sorry you're upset. Let me know if there's anything I can do."

"Thank you." She was touched by the display of affection. "And thank you for coming by. It may be a few days before I resume our lessons, but I'll be back soon. I promise."

The flow of tears eventually ceased, replaced by exhaustion. Bethany tried to block out thoughts of what her mother's final moments must have been like, and tried to concentrate on happier times. She wasn't sure if the Circle keeping her from witnessing Leandra's death was a blessing or a curse. It was just one more thing to add to the list of all that had changed in the past three years.

Aveline showed up two days later, as Garrett had predicted. The two women had been wary of each other when they'd first met, due to their status as an apostate and a guard. The circumstances of their voyage from Lothering to Kirkwall had pushed them together, and a courteous, respectful friendship had formed. Bethany appreciated that the captain had taken the time to offer her condolences in person.

Before she left, Aveline gave her an unmarked envelope. Bethany could guess where it had originated, and could tell that the captain was slightly perturbed at having to be the messenger. She thanked Aveline profusely and returned to her chambers.

The letter from Anders was precisely what she had expected. In it, he expressed his sorrow at what had happened, and apologized for not being able to do more to help Leandra. Also included were the standard declarations of how he wished he could visit her in person, especially at this tragic time, and his attempts at keeping the dream of being reunited alive.

As she read and reread the letter, she realized it offered her no solace. It only widened a hole that had been growing in her heart. His words, while poignant and poetic, would never be a substitute for the solid warmth of his arms. The distance between them had been growing over the course of several years, and their correspondence was like a fraying rope, desperately trying to keep together what was drifting apart.

There was no use in trying to pretend things would one day be different. He had always spoken to her of hope, and she had tried her hardest to believe. Recent events had finally driven home the point that the impossible could not be achieved. When she needed someone with her, it couldn't be him. It was never going to be him.

A series of fresh tears dripped down her face, but they were not for the loss of her mother. Bethany knew what she had to do, and she knew the amount of heartache and pain it was going to cause all around. She reached for her pen and tried not to let the outpouring of her sadness stain the paper.

"_Dear Anders,_

_Thank you for your letter. Mother's death was a shock to us all. I heard you were there when it happened, and I'm glad she was surrounded by people who cared about her. Please don't blame yourself, or think you could have done any differently – as I've already told my brother, wasting energy considering what might have been never solves any problems. What's done is done, and I can take comfort in knowing she's found peace with Father and Carver now. _

_Your kind words show how much you care for me, and I'll forever be grateful for that. However, what I'm going to ask of you next is the hardest thing I've ever done: Please don't write to me anymore. Please don't fill my head with those thoughts of what might have been, and please don't promise me things that can't happen right now. Being without you has never stopped hurting, and it's not going to stop if we keep delaying the inevitable. I loved you so, so much, and I know part of me always will. I just don't know if love is enough anymore._

_This will be the last letter you receive from me. I sincerely hope you do wonderful things and accomplish everything you've wanted for so long. Know that I am safe and happy, and perhaps worrying about me will no longer detract you from your goals. I will cherish all the time we spent together, but we must accept that our paths have diverged. _

_-Bethany"_


	19. Monsters

Running. Anders was running. He was running so fast, he couldn't see anyone or anything around him. His feet took him out of the dungeon, back to Darktown, back to his clinic, back to the solitude which was the only safe haven he had. He stood in the quiet room, unsure of what to do next.

The urge to destroy still coursed through his veins. He was almost ready to turn his anger on himself, but he just couldn't tolerate the thought of any more pain. His writing desk was his first target, and he swept his papers and tools onto the floor in a seething rage. A table full of potions was the next victim, and he flipped it over. Amidst the mess he had created, he sank to his knees and pulled at his hair. The threat of tears stung at his eyes, and he was certain he would be unable to contain the scream that was coiled in his throat, ready to spring forth. All that escaped, however, was a choked whisper. "Maker, what have I done?"

He had heard via the mage underground of a Templar severely abusing his power. Not only was Ser Alrik accused of making mages who had passed their Harrowing Tranquil, there were rumors that he sought to perform the rite on every mage in Thedas. Anders had convinced Garrett to sneak into one of the lowest levels of the Gallows to help him find evidence of this despicable plot.

Garrett had been skeptical, but he agreed to help. After enlisting the aid of the ever-present Isabela, and Merrill, the elven blood mage, the quartet had entered a hidden tunnel that lead from Darktown to the Gallows. They hadn't progressed very far before they came across Ser Alrik and his associates threatening a young mage.

The spirit of Justice flared within him, and he – they – attacked the Templars. Channels of ice flew towards the harbingers of oppression. With every blow, the fury bubbled up inside him, ready to erupt and surge forth. Somewhere during the battle, Anders lost control and succumbed to his anger. He saw nothing, he felt nothing, and only vague snippets of sounds made their way to his ears. The scrape of metal against armor and the screams of the fallen churned together in an indistinguishable clamor, until a single word pierced through the chaos. _Demon_.

The accusation enraged him further. Wrath consumed him, but instead of it contributing to the ongoing storm, everything went black. Trapped in a vacuum of deafening silence, he was powerless to respond or react to the overwhelming darkness. From what felt like miles away, he could just make out Garrett screaming at him. He didn't know whether to fight through the heavy clouds towards the words, or to let go and disappear from them forever.

The next thing Anders knew, he was standing over the trembling mage, the end of his staff aimed at her heart. She was whimpering and crying, and he knew he had only been seconds away from driving it through her chest. Confused, humiliated, and stricken with nauseating grief at what had almost transpired, he did the only thing he could. He ran.

He was still on his knees in the clinic, surrounded by a flurry of crumpled notes and broken glass, when he heard the door creak open. Without moving, he waited until he sensed movement near his shoulder. He didn't need to turn around to know who was behind him.

"So…uh…what happened back there?" Garrett asked

Anders didn't know what to say to one of the only friends he had left. "You heard her. I'm a demon. An abomination."

"No. You're not."

"We always knew, didn't we? It was only a matter of time before I couldn't retain control anymore."

"It was a bad situation all around. The important thing is that we stopped those bastards before they could hurt anymore mages."

"Don't you get it?" Anders didn't have much strength left for righteous indignation. "I'm just as bad as they are. I almost _killed a mage_. One of the very people I swore to help and protect."

"But you didn't, and that's what counts."

"Is it?"

"It's enough for me. And you were right about Alrik, you know."

"What do you mean?"

"Take a look at this."

Anders stood up. For the first time, he saw that Isabela and Merrill were in the clinic as well, though they were hovering near the doorway. He didn't care about their presence. They had already seen him at his absolute worst, and there was nothing left to hide, not even from the irritating blood mage. He scanned the note Garrett had handed to him. "The Knight-Commander and the Divine knew about his plan and rejected it?"

"Seems that way. It also seems that he wasn't ready to take no for an answer. I'm not going to lose any sleep tonight about introducing his innards to my sword."

Relief did wash over Anders, but he wasn't completely put at ease. "It still didn't excuse what I almost did."

Garrett continued his efforts at reassuring the distraught mage. "You were appalled at what you saw. We all were."

"But that girl…." The thought that had been weighing on his mind since the incident lingered between them. "It could have been her, Hawke."

"It wasn't."

"It _could_ have been _her_," he repeated. He paced around the room, his boots crunching on the remnants of the shattered bottles. "That poor girl only snuck out of the Circle to see her mother. What if it had been Bethany? What if she was trying to get out, and she ran into those disgusting Templars, and we found them, and I…." Anders couldn't finish the horrible thought. The knowledge of the grievous act he had nearly committed was enough to twist his stomach in knots. Realizing that he could have easily brought death to the woman he loved was unbearable.

"It wasn't her, and it wouldn't have been." Garrett stopped his agitated movements with a hand on his shoulder. "You would never hurt her. We all know that."

He wasn't convinced, yet he knew further arguing would be futile. "This isn't what I wanted, Hawke," he said softly. "I didn't think something like this would ever happen."

"_It is necessary_," echoed the voice in his head that wasn't all his. He clawed at his temples, trying to silence it. _"Those who stand in our way will be punished."_

Garrett cordially ignored his obvious distress. "Things will work out. I know you're not happy with the way things are, but the mages are safe for now. You helped them today. You eliminated a big, ugly threat to their well-being. No one will hurt them tonight."

It wasn't enough, but it was all he could hope for at the present time. "I suppose you're right," he said. "Maybe I'll go see the Grand Cleric this week. Perhaps she can offer me some more reassurance."

"That's not a bad idea." The warrior cast a glance back at his two tacit companions. "I should see Merrill back to the alienage before it gets too late. Are you going to be all right in here? Or do you want to join us for the walk?"

"I'll be okay."

"I'll try to come by tomorrow morning."

"That's not necessary. I'm fine." He nodded a farewell to the others. "Thank you."

Garrett had been able to calm him down considerably, yet Anders knew it would be some time before he could fully come to terms with the day's events. He didn't know if he would ever be able to forgive himself. He didn't know if he deserved his friends' forgiveness.

Wide awake and restless, he walked outside the clinic and leaned against the railing that separated him from the sea. The thought of throwing himself into the water briefly crossed his mind, but he wanted to believe he could endure his suffering and increase his efforts to liberate the mages. He had to admit he hadn't been trying his hardest. This could be the motivation he needed. The waves lapping up against the lowest boundaries of the city helped soothe him further. He looked skyward, and hoped the stars could offer him similar succor.

Garrett's friendship was invaluable, though he was sure the warrior would hear none of it if he tried to express his gratitude in detail. While replaying their conversation, Anders knew that as much as he appreciated their relationship, he was not the Hawke he truly wanted by his side. In the wake of her mother's death, Bethany had requested they cease all communication. Not wanting to cause her any additional pain, he had followed her wishes.

She was right, he thought. Perhaps it was better that they stopped pretending there was hope for their thwarted love. Not only were they physically separated, but they had grown into different people from who they once were. She was finding purpose in her new life at the Circle, while he was devolving into the abomination he had sworn he'd never become.

The stars glittered in the infinite night sky, ever unchanging. He tried to recall the night he had watched them with her, to relive the last time he had felt the warmth of her body against him. So much had happened since then, and he knew that those happier times were behind him for good.

The memories of the past were comfortable, but the future loomed ahead. He still felt that the mages needed to be freed from oppression, and he promised to devote himself even more to aiding their cause. Even if he was beyond repair, he clung to the idea that some good could come from his actions. He gazed once more at the sky, observing the tiny white dots spread across the black expanse in an explosion of light.

"_An explosion_…."

The first inklings of a plan crept into Anders's mind.


	20. Breaking the Silence

Bethany crossed her arms over her chest and gave her charge an incredulous glare. "Ella! What were you thinking?"

"I know. It was a foolish idea." The younger mage was visibly upset. "I…I was just so happy that I passed my Harrowing, I wanted to tell my mother right away. I haven't seen her since they brought me here. I don't even know if she knows where I am!"

Bethany could understand the sentiment, but she was still worried for her former student. "At least you came right back and turned yourself in. I don't think your punishment will be too severe."

"It was wrong to sneak out. Believe me, I'll never try it again."

Something was still bothering the girl, and Bethany thought there might be an issue beyond remorse and guilt over being caught. The Templars had turned the runaway over to her, and she promised she wouldn't let Ella out of her sight. She took a seat on her bed and patted the space next to her. "What happened outside?" she asked gently.

Ella sat down. "Oh, it was terrible! I was halfway to Darktown, and I was apprehended by that awful Ser Alrik. You know, the one who always leered at us, who we tried to avoid."

She wrinkled her nose. "Yes, I know him."

"He had the brand with him. He was going to make me Tranquil! And then…then…he was going to do things to me…."

Bethany's stomach churned with revulsion at the implied meaning of her words. "Oh, Maker…" she murmured.

"But then this group of people appeared! Two were mages, one had a pair of daggers, and the last one wielded a giant sword! They tried to get the Templars away from me, but Ser Alrik fought back. There was so much blood, and I was so afraid!"

This group sounded awfully familiar. "Go on," she urged.

"They had to kill the Templars, and I thought I was safe. But then one of the mages came towards me. Something…something wasn't right with him. He was possessed! I thought he was going to kill me!" Ella burst into tears. "The other man stopped him just in time, and I got away. He found me in Darktown and told me to come back here, where I would be safe."

Bethany tried to process all she had heard. "Ella," she said, closing her eyes and resting her head in her hands. "The man with the sword was my brother."

"Your brother?" She sounded surprised, but her shock was short-lived. "Of course. I should have known. It all makes sense now. He _would_ be the one to rescue me."

"Garrett does have a compassionate side somewhere, deep down."

"But what about the demon? Did you know him, too?"

"He's not a demon!" She snapped her head to look at her friend, hoping her suspended tears weren't visible. "Don't ever call him that!"

Ella didn't answer right away. "I'm…sorry. But who is he?"

She debated how much to reveal. Truthfully, she didn't even know the best answer to the question. "He was a very good friend of mine before I came here."

The younger woman seemed confused. "He must have been a different sort of person back then."

"Possibly." Bethany stood up and faced the back of the room. "Why don't you go see what's for dinner? I'll be along shortly."

"I thought you were supposed to be with me at all times," she reminded her.

"We both know you're not going anywhere. I just need to take care of some things. It'll only take a few minutes."

Ella nodded and left the room. Once she was alone, Bethany was at a loss of what to do next. She paced anxiously around the small quarters, trying to make sense of the events her friend had recalled. Her brother hadn't spoken of Anders much, and she hadn't asked. There had always been a rather forced cheeriness to his last letters, which she had tried to pretend was genuine. There had been no communication between them since she'd asked him to stop writing to her. For the first time, she started to truly wonder how he had been faring over the past several years.

After she had practically worn a circle in the rug, she collapsed back onto the bed. Her memories of the man she had loved were difficult to reconcile with the picture Ella had presented. He had been the first and only person to capture her heart and touch her body in incredible ways. Though it had been so long, so very long, she could still feel his imprint on her flesh. When she closed her eyes, she saw the warmth in his smile, his messy hair, his bare chest covering hers. He had taken the time to fully awaken every part of her. She vividly remembered his lips skimming every inch of exposed skin, kissing the curved line of her breast before sliding her nipple into his mouth….

Bethany whimpered to the empty room. The pleasurable recollections also brought her pain, as she was certain she would never experience them with him again. He had been so careful with her and treated her like the most sacred of treasures. How could the man who had been nothing but tender and loving try to kill an innocent mage?

She knew the answer, or at least she thought she had stumbled upon the most palatable explanation. It wasn't Anders who had nearly attacked Ella in a fit of rage, but Justice. The only problem was that she never really knew where Anders stopped and Justice began. Was she wrong to have never feared him?

The conflicting emotions churned through her, and sympathy eventually won out. No matter what he had done, or almost did, Bethany honestly believed that he would never harm someone like her or Ella. Whatever had happened to bring out the vengeful wrath of Justice, her kind, selfless Anders lived within. If she knew him as well as she thought she did, then she assumed that he must be feeling terrible about the incident with the Templars. Despite her decision to cut off contact, she felt compelled to let him know she still cared for him.

She sat up and crossed the room to her desk. The fresh sheet of paper lay on the surface, her hand gripped the pen, but the words would not come. What could she say at a time like this? How could she express her concern while still keeping a safe distance between them?

"_Dear Anders,_

_I heard about what happened with Ella. She told me - - -_"

Bethany crumpled up her first attempt. There was no use in rehashing the calamity that had ensued. She took a new piece of stationery off the pile.

"_Dear Anders,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. I know times are difficult right now - - -_"

Her second note was rejected for both its formal tone and its statement of the obvious. She contemplated what would be the best kind of message to send, and opted for simplicity.

"_Dear Anders,_

_Take care of yourself. Be safe._

_-Bethany"_


	21. Into the Shadows

Garrett had a tendency to make himself known whenever he was entering an area. Loud comments, heavy weaponry, and curious company were the hallmarks of the warrior's bluster. When he crept into the clinic looking more like a wounded mabari puppy, Anders was immediately concerned. "…Hawke?"

"She left me." He seemed utterly confused.

"Who? What happened?"

"Isabela. She's…gone."

Anders kicked out a chair from beneath a table and motioned for his friend to sit. "I don't understand. You're going to have to start from the beginning."

"She got a tip about that relic she's always been on about. Said it was a life or death situation. Turns out that relic is some ancient Qunari book, and _that's_ why they haven't been leaving the city. They want it back."

Political tensions in the city had been strained lately, due to the Qunari's refusal to leave Kirkwall. Anders knew that Garrett had been pressured by the viscount, the Chantry, and Aveline to help find a peaceful solution. Nothing he had done so far had convinced anyone that such a solution could be found. "Let me guess," he said. "Isabela wasn't crazy about the idea of turning it over."

"I left it up to her. If she needed it, if her life really depended on it, then how could I tell her to return it?"

"Quite the dilemma indeed." He pulled out a second chair for himself. "And something tells me that now both Isabela and the Qunari's precious tome have vanished."

"I don't even care about the stupid book." Garrett's bewildered expression hadn't faded, and it was tinged with his disappointment. "Not only did I want her to be safe, I wanted her to trust me. And then, after scribbling a quick farewell note, she just left."

Anders knew the anguish of such an unexpected separation far too well. "I'm sorry."

"I am too, for dumping all of this on you. I just didn't know where else to go. If I went to The Hanged Man to drown my sorrows, I'd have to listen to Varric's 'I told you sos' for the rest of the night." He groaned. "I'm such an idiot. I thought I could be the one who was different. I thought I'd be enough for her to want to stick around."

"For what it's worth, I thought you could be, too."

The two men sat in silence, each contemplating the other's situation, as well as his own. "Do you ever sometimes wonder if it would have been easier if we had never loved them in the first place?" Garrett finally asked.

"Every day I wake up alone," he admitted. "But when it comes down to it, I wouldn't change a single moment."

"…Neither would I." He stood up. "I should get going. I hate to go to bed by myself, but I do need to sleep. This whole mess with the Qunari is likely to boil over any day, and I'm sure I'm going to find myself thrust into the middle of it."

Anders nodded. "Let me know if you need anything."

"I'll come to you if I need any cuts or scrapes patched up. Mending a broken heart should probably be done on my own," he tried to joke.

"I don't think I have a spell or a potion for that."

Garrett slipped out of the clinic as quietly as he had come in. Anders was sympathetic to his plight, but his thoughts eventually turned back to his own loneliness. The Qunari had provided a formidable distraction from his many woes. The city as a whole was even more focused on the unwanted squatters than they were on persecuting mages. The weary warrior was likely correct – getting them out of Kirkwall was not going to be easy. Bloodshed would be inevitable. Whether or not Isabela's actions would prove to be the catalyst that sparked the ultimate battle remained to be seen.

Anders hadn't abandoned his plans to fight for the mages, just delayed them. He didn't even know exactly what he was going to do yet. By now he had realized that any sort of progress would take drastic action. He just had to decide how far he was willing to go.

Now more than ever, he wished he had Bethany to confide in, to listen to him, to support him. No one else in the city had shown the same capacity to love and understand him as she had, and he still missed her terribly. Her brief message to him following his loss of control beneath the Gallows had indicated that she still cared for him, as much as she may have wanted to forget that fact. After all that had happened, he couldn't completely relinquish the dream of one day living in a world where they could be together.

It had been years since he'd last seen her, yet he could remember every detail about her with excruciating perfection. If he closed his eyes, he could picture her standing before him, coquettishly leaning against the desk and demanding his full attention. Strands of her glossy hair would sweep across her cheekbones, and he would push it back before kissing her plump, pink lips. He could still taste her, and feel her body writhe against him when he probed into her mouth. The heaving of her chest, the weight of her breast in his hand, and the involuntary undulations of her hips were all permanently etched into his mind.

Were she with him, she would banish the darkness that had settled around him like a toxic haze. She would bring light and laughter back into his life and save him from despair. The mere touch of her skin would bring comfort to him, before her flesh surrounded him with an intimate love that held the power to make him forget every hardship he had ever faced.

The impossible scenes were so vivid, it was difficult for Anders to tear himself away from the fantasy. After more rational consideration, he knew he couldn't promise that she would be better off with him. Involving her in anything he might do would only put her safety at risk, and he wasn't willing to jeopardize her well-being for his more selfish desires. He would fight for her, but from afar.

Bleak times lay in store for Kirkwall; of that, he was certain. If the Circle could serve a purpose, he hoped it would keep her out of harm's way, should the Qunari declare war on the city. There would be violence, and death would be impossible to avoid. Regardless of how much he missed her, Anders couldn't bear to think of anything disrupting the pristine images of his Bethany that he always held close to his heart.


	22. Fighting Back

_Bethany paced around the empty room. She knew that someone was waiting for her, that something was going to happen to her; she just couldn't remember who, or what, or when. Her footsteps echoed off the bare floor, and she fidgeted with the skirt of her dress. Who was coming for her? Where would they be going?_

_A knock at the door stopped her countless laps around the small quarters. She let go of the scratchy white fabric and forced her hands to relax. Crossing the room, she opened the door and peered outside._

_A pair of Templars waited in the hallway. Bethany breathed a sigh of relief. Though she had spent much of her life running from them, she had adjusted to the constant presence of the armored guards. For the most part, there was an air of respect between them and the mages at the Circle, and the sight of one of them no longer filled her with apprehension._

_She stepped into the corridor, closing the door behind her. The Templars flanked her, one on either side, and led her to the top of a staircase. It spiraled downward, and the air grew colder as they descended the wide stone steps. They were going underground. She didn't know why. "Where are you taking me?" she asked._

_There was no response. Bethany had no choice but to allow herself to be escorted through the dark, clammy passages. They eventually arrived at a solid oak door that bore a striking resemblance to the one that had led to the vestibule where she had undergone her Harrowing. "What's going on? Why are we here?"_

_The Templars wordlessly pushed open the door. When she saw that the room was filled with their colleagues, something told her to run away. The hair at the back of her neck stood on end, and her throat grew dry. She tried to resist, yet they dragged her further inside. When they reached the center of the group, the one on her right forced her to her knees. _

_She yelped in discomfort, but it went unnoticed. A masked Templar stepped forward, holding a long, narrow object in his hands. As he grew closer, she could see the impression of a sunburst at one end. The lyrium brand. _

_Bethany tried to scramble backwards. There was no escape. "No!" she screamed. "You can't do this! Please, don't!" The wretched tool extended towards her, the assurance of Tranquility mere moments away. "No!" The word dissolved into an incomprehensible screech, and she closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable._

"Bethany!" Someone was shaking her shoulders. "Bethany, wake up!"

Her eyelids fluttered open and she could see the outline of Ella by her side in the dark room. "Where…what happened?" she asked, gasping for breath.

"I think you were having a bad dream. I didn't want anyone else to hear you. They'd assume you were possessed!"

Bethany inhaled deeply. "Thank you."

Her recently acquired roommate tilted her head to the side. "Are you okay? Your screams sounded terrible."

"I'll be okay." Tears sprung to her eyes as she recalled the horrifying nightmare. "I…I just…."

"What is it?"

"Nothing. I don't want to worry you."

Ella patted her shoulder again. "You can tell me."

Bethany slid over so her friend could join her in the bed, not wanting to make the girl kneel on the floor for any longer than necessary during her recollections. "I dreamt they were going to make me Tranquil. It felt so real…."

"I can imagine."

She sniffled, and the tears rolled down her cheeks. Though she knew she wasn't in danger from the Rite of Tranquility since she had passed her Harrowing, she couldn't pinpoint why, exactly, she was so upset. The sobs continued to escape from her chest, and she could no longer stifle the flow of emotions she had tried to suppress for so many years. "Do you ever think of how much they've taken from us?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

Another hiccupping cry emerged. "Oh, Ella, I've tried so hard to be a good role model for you and the others. I really am happy here, I promise. I just can't help but sometimes think about how much I lost when I came to the Circle."

"You _are_ a good role model!" she tried to assure her. "I've always wanted to be just like you!" Ella squeezed her arm.

The compassionate gestures didn't help calm her any. "As much as we try to pretend otherwise, there's always the threat of them making us Tranquil. They can take away our emotions, our livelihood, our ability to feel joy, and passion, and exhilaration. And that's just the beginning."

"I understand."

Bethany shook her head. "There's something I haven't told you," she confessed. "I was in love once. I was waiting for him to come home to me when the Templars arrested me." Her crying resumed, wracking her body with the grief she had tried to forget. "I was ready to build my own life with him, and it was gone in an instant!"

"…I'm sorry."

"They've already ripped me away from the man I loved. They stole the last moments I had with my mother. They've separated me from the only family I have left. What's next?" Her face was hot, and the edge of the sheets was soaked in her tears. "What else can they take from me?"

Ella said nothing, and the two women lay side by side as they waited for Bethany's anguish to subside. Her heart rate eventually slowed, and she tried to breathe evenly through her mouth. "I'm sorry, Ella," she said. "I don't know what came over me. I didn't mean for everything to come spilling out like that."

"It's okay." The younger girl smiled, though it was tinged with empathetic sadness. "One of the things I always liked about you was that you had a life outside the Circle. Your experiences made you more knowledgeable, and I think you taught us better because of it. I don't blame you for missing the outside world every now and then."

"I know, but it still wasn't fair for me to burden you with my problems."

"I don't mind." She snuggled beneath the covers. "If it helps you, you can always talk to me about anything. I'd like to hear about the happier times with your mother, and this boyfriend of yours," she teased.

She'd succeeded in bringing a small smile to Bethany's face. "Maybe another time. Let's try to get a little more sleep before we have to get up for the day, okay?"

All mages belonging to Kirkwall's Circle gathered in one of the largest rooms of Templar Hall. None of them knew why they had been summoned, and they had been promised that the First Enchanter would join them shortly to dispel any rumors. Bethany was still feeling some effects from her sleepless night, but she, too, pondered what could be going on outside the walls of their enclosure.

Just as a revolt was threatening to spill out of the doorways, Orsino made his appearance. With a wave of his hand, he silenced the room, commanding the attention of everyone present. "I know you're all curious as to why I called you here," he said. "I'll try to be succinct – the Qunari have attacked the city. It seems they've been planning this for quite some time."

A murmur rippled through the crowd. Bethany's mind immediately went to her loved ones outside the Circle, and she prayed for their safety. The First Enchanter waited for the whispers to die down before he spoke again. "I believe we can offer assistance to the guards trying to quell the violence and prevent the city from falling to the Qunari's control. Kirkwall is our home, and we have a duty to protect it. Let us show its citizens that the mages are not to be feared; that we are an honorable part of their society." He paused again, and his eyes scanned the large group before him. "This will likely be a perilous undertaking," he admitted. "I will understand if you choose not to come with me."

The voices of her cohorts swarmed Bethany in a swirl of panic and confusion. She admired and respected Orsino, and could easily find the truth in his words. The gray-haired elf had almost stepped into the role of a father figure to her since she had been brought to the Circle, and she always wanted to live up to his expectations. Battling the Qunari was going to be undoubtedly risky, however.

She thought of her brother. Garrett's bravado could be regarded as foolish by some, but she knew that it was usually motivated by his desire to do the right thing. Even when there had been no coin involved, she had seen him help those who needed it without a second thought on more than one occasion. Somewhere beneath the heavy armor was a kind-hearted, sympathetic man who could inspire others to rally around him and fight at his side.

Reminders of her brother immediately led her to Anders. The apostate continually risked his own safety to aid the unfortunate. He had made a vow to combat the injustice against the mages, and to offer assistance in the plight against all unfairly oppressed people. Though she couldn't be one hundred percent certain, she knew that if Garrett was out fighting to protect Kirkwall, Anders would be right there to support him.

Her path was clear. She had no other option. Bethany stood up and made her way to the front of the room. "I will join you," she declared to Orsino. "Tell me what preparations need to be made."


	23. Defenses

The stars were not visible through the thick clouds of smoke that permeated the air in a choking haze. In their onslaught of terror, the Qunari had destroyed various structures and set fires to corral their victims into defenseless groups exactly where they wanted them. The scent of burning debris and bloody death filled Ander's nostrils. All the efforts to prevent a full-fledged war had been futile.

Aveline had expected trouble when arranging a meeting with the Arishok, and called upon Garrett for support. He, in turn, had suggested bringing along additional backup, resulting in the healer finding himself flung into the midst of the melee. Also joining them was Varric, whose proficiency with his beloved crossbow had proved invaluable yet again. They had barely made it out of the Qunari compound with their lives, and were struggling to reach the Viscount's Keep in Hightown.

Reaching Lowtown from the docks had been easy enough. Fighting through the hordes of Qunari, along with their misguided followers, to advance towards Hightown was considerably more challenging. Anders hurled bolts of lightning and torrents of ice at their foes, all while trying to maintain a watchful eye on his friends' injuries and prevent them from falling in battle. The Qunari were powerful, and employed a number of magic users of their own. Despite being outnumbered, Garrett's group had been able to slash, stun, and shoot their way through the smoke-filled passages.

Progressing through Hightown was worse. After nearly being obliterated by a Saarebas, they were forced to thank Meredith for her help in dispatching the deadly mage. Anders had little respect for the Knight-Commander, and swallowed back his contempt and disdain. He didn't trust her, nor did he agree with the treatment of mages as dictated by her authority, but he begrudgingly accepted that she had saved their lives. She and Garrett had decided to split up while she searched for more of their men and regroup at the Keep.

The city's less reputable residents had also shown up in full force. In addition to the Qunari, it was now necessary to fight a band of thugs who were intent on wreaking their own havoc. All who confronted them fell to blade, arrow, or magic, and they kept on. When they entered a courtyard, Anders felt the bile rise in his throat as he saw the corpses strewn about like rag dolls. The bodies were dressed in distinctive robes. Mages.

"Shit. This isn't good," was Garrett's obvious comment. Anders didn't answer, choosing to focus his concentration on keeping Justice suppressed in the wake of such a brutal attack.

Aveline had taken off, sprinting towards one of the fallen bodies. When she arrived at the gray-clad form, it rolled over and groaned. There was at least one survivor. Upon reaching the pair, Anders recognized him as First Enchanter Orsino, another city official he tried to avoid, despite the elf's status as a mage. Aveline helped him to his feet, and he surveyed the aftermath of whatever had happened in the streets. "No," he murmured. "They can't all be dead!"

One of the nearby bodies shifted, almost imperceptibly. Orsino reached the victim before Anders could, and a white light emitted from his hands, enveloping the mage in healing energy. When the robed figure sat up, there was no mistaking her identity. "Bethany!" Anders and Garrett exclaimed simultaneously.

It was all the apostate could do not to rush over and sweep her into his arms, but he was aware of the ever watchful eye of the First Enchanter. The reunion was short-lived as Meredith made her second appearance. Her mere presence made Anders's skin crawl, and he shrunk away from her in an effort to escape her notice.

While Meredith and Orsino argued, he took the time to study the woman he hadn't seen in three years. Even with her injuries, she was as beautiful and radiant as ever, and he longed to touch her. Her gaze met his, and it still held the same softness and warmth it had whenever she'd looked upon him in the past. There was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to tell her, but this was not the setting he'd dreamed of for when he was finally able to see her again. All he could do was hope she understood that his feelings for her had never diminished, and that if circumstances had been different, he would have given her any joy he had to share.

Garrett's voice barking out orders tore through his dreamy observations like a battering ram. The Knight-Commander and the First Enchanter parted ways, and Bethany had no choice but to trail after the latter. When she walked past him, Anders was startled when she reached out and brushed his hand with her fingertips. He turned to follow her movements, and saw her looking back at him while she walked. His gaze lingered on her for as long as possible, but the blissful moments were gone much too quickly.

There were other matters at hand. The Arishok had taken hostages in the Keep, and Garrett had agreed to attempt negotiations with him. All they needed to do was find a way in. Anders waited until Meredith's attentions were diverted elsewhere before readying his staff. The battle was far from over, and he needed to focus on aiding the city and his friend.

* * *

Bethany watched from a safe distance as Orsino created the necessary diversion to allow Garrett's group into the Keep. It was a risky plan, and she had been given a hurried list of specific instructions of what to do if he failed. The First Enchanter was, naturally, an accomplished mage, but she had never had the opportunity to see him in action.

When the first wave of Qunari soldiers advanced on him, her fears were assuaged. Orsino was in complete control of his impressive power, and his enemies never stood a chance. Flames engulfed the muscular fighters, and it was impossible for them to penetrate the wall of spells that separated them from their target. Their own magicians were no match for the most esteemed mage in Kirkwall, and the wiry elf never relented in his assault.

While he engaged them in combat, Garrett and his crew slipped off to the side. Staying close to the wall, they moved from column to column, moving through the shadows to the entrance of the Keep. They disappeared inside the building, and for the first time, Bethany wondered if they would come back alive. She regretted not saying something more significant to them before they left, but there simply hadn't been time.

The last of the Qunari guards fell to Orsino's might. He took a moment to recoup before returning to the massive stone staircase that led to the Keep. Passing by Bethany's vantage point, he approached Meredith and her men.

Bethany was too far away to hear the details of the conversation; that it was an amicable chat was unlikely anyway. She knew she should return to the Circle, but she couldn't bear the thought of having to wait countless hours to receive word about the outcome of the negotiations. Not wanting to attract the attention of the Knight-Commander and her men, she stayed on the opposite side of the Viscount's Way, alternating between idly shuffling up and down the length of the outdoor antechamber and praying to the Maker to protect her loved ones.

Seeing Anders again had sent a rush of conflicting emotions flooding through her mind and her heart. She thought she had been successful in moving past their doomed relationship. She was wrong. To have him finally be so close to her and still not be able to do anything about it was maddening. Had she been wiser, she would have left him alone without a second look, but she hadn't been able to resist reaching out to him one more time. The touch of his skin burned an imprint on her fingertips, and she wished she had been granted the opportunity to do more in that brief instance.

She didn't know how much time had passed before an unexpected figure entered her line of sight. Bethany hadn't seen her for three years, but the woman's skimpy dress and garish jewelry were unmistakable. Hoping no one else would discover her, she took the risk of calling out to her friend in the loudest whisper she could muster. "Isabela!"

The pirate's keen ears heard the sound of her name, and she took a detour into the darkness. "Bethany! I see they've sprung you from the Circle."

"Not quite."

"Oh well. I heard your brother and the others may have run into some trouble with the Arishok."

She nodded. "They're inside now."

"Maybe I'll go crash their little party. After all, I did bring a gift!" Isabela laughed and shifted the heavy book she was carrying from one arm to the other.

Bethany thought it was rather curious that Isabela hadn't been with her brother in the first place, but there was no time to ask questions. "I'm glad you're here," she said. "You'll help them, won't you?"

"Of course, sweetness. That's why I came back." She shrugged her shoulders. "I thought I'd seen the last of this place, but Hawke just seems to have this strong hold on me. At least there's never a dull moment when he's around!"

Bethany let her leave and watched her climb the rest of the steps. She felt better knowing that Garrett would have one more ally on his side, but she didn't know if it would be enough. All that was left to do was wait.


	24. Whispers of a Dream

A cheer erupted from the gathered crowd when Garrett emerged from the Keep with the hostages in tow. Anders lingered towards the back of the group, choosing to let the warrior and the captain deliver any reports to those who wanted and needed to know what had happened inside. He was exhausted and couldn't wait to go home and collapse into bed. Something kept him from racing back to Darktown. He had to know if _she_ was still in the area.

Bethany had given him the strength he needed to assist Garrett in the battle against the mighty Arishok and his most powerful guards. Now that he had seen her again, been close enough to touch her, failing was not an option. Their chance meeting hadn't been enough. He had to return to her, and let her grace his life with her light once more.

He knew there was a high probability that she and Orsino had already been sent back to the Circle by that wretched Knight-Commander. When he saw that the elf was still at Meredith's side, he allowed the first trickle of hope to seep into his heart. Was she here?

Anders turned his head from side to side, frantically searching the courtyard. His answer came to him in the form of the edge of a blue robe peeking out from behind a pillar. As soon as he saw it, he broke into a run.

A pair of delicate hands pulled him into her hiding spot the moment he was close enough. "You're alive!" Bethany said, beaming at him. "I waited for you."

He pulled her in for a crushing embrace. Her body felt exactly as he remembered it, and the scent of her hair wafted upwards, as intoxicating as ever. His arms trembled as he held her, and he felt ready to burst from years of pent up emotion. "I missed you," he murmured near her ear. "So, so much."

Anders had dreamt of this moment for so long. Now that it had arrived, he didn't know what to say to her. All the declarations of love, the assurances of his feelings, and the pleas for forgiveness for all his wrongdoings vanished into the chaos of their unexpected reunion. All he could do was drink in her presence and bask in the glow of having her near. The words proved to be unnecessary as he ducked his head down to press his lips against hers.

The passion of their kiss tore through his body and was nearly enough to send him crashing to the ground. The sweet nectar of her tongue filled his mouth, inciting a wave of earth-shattering joy that rippled over every part of him. Wetness stung at his eyes, yet he couldn't bring himself to pull away from her just yet. He couldn't see, he couldn't breathe, but it no longer mattered. The tears cascaded over his cheeks, dampening both his skin and hers, a symbol of the relief that washed over him.

Bethany broke the kiss and dabbed at his face with her sleeve. "I missed you, too," she said, her voice breaking with her own heartfelt sentiment. "But we can talk later. Right now, I just want to feel you with me."

The fervor with which she kissed him again stirred feelings Anders had tried to block out. Nerves he'd almost forgotten he possessed sprung to life, awakened by the probing touch of his beloved. Her hands roamed over his shoulders, chest, and back, skimming over the fabric that separated them. He leaned against her, pinning her to the stone column, not caring if she felt the outline of his erection straining against his clothes. Regardless of what was and was not possible, he needed to satiate what his memories alone couldn't do. Without tearing his lips away from her, he returned her exploratory motions, running his hands up the flat plane of her stomach and cupping the ample flesh of her breasts. Even through her heavy robes, her nipples called for his attention. He caressed them with his thumbs, determined to memorize every part of her before she was ripped away from him again.

Her chest heaved against him, and her breathing quickened. "Someone's going to see us," she whispered against his mouth.

"I know. I'm sorry. I know we can't…."

Bethany slipped out from beneath him, her eyes scanning their surroundings. "This way," she said, lacing her fingers through his.

"What…I mean, where are you –"

"Just follow me." She hurried down the stone steps, down to the lower courtyard. Garrett stood a short distance away, cheerfully regaling a captive audience with the tale of the Arishok's defeat. Both the Knight-Commander and the First Enchanter were engrossed by his every word. None of the onlookers paid any attention to the two lovers rushing through the shadows.

She led him around a sharp corner to a recess to the side of the vast staircase. There was just enough light for Anders to see that her face was sodden with her own tears. "I thought it would be easier to forget you," she whimpered apologetically. "I know now that I'll never be able to. I don't want to."

"I never stopped loving you," he said. "Nothing will ever change that."

"We don't have much time." She dragged him closer, and her mesmerizing eyes stared into his. "I _need_ you."

Even with the threat of being discovered looming overhead, Anders needed no further encouragement. Descending upon her supple lips yet again, he trapped her between the immovable stone wall and the full weight of his body. His hands traveled the length of her torso, searching for the closures to her robe. Once they were unfastened, he pushed away the thick material, exposing her smallclothes. He would have loved nothing more than to rip them away from her tantalizing skin and kiss every inch of her, but he knew they couldn't afford that luxury.

While he stood transfixed by her ethereal splendor, she fumbled with his pants. When she reached his bulging cock, he realized just how much he had ached for her over the years. She stroked up and down its full length, and his heart raced with the anticipation of being inside her, surrounded by her magnificent warmth.

There was no time to waste. He slid his hands beneath her creamy thighs and lifted her up. Bethany moved aside the flimsy fabric that was the only barrier between them, and he positioned himself below her. Easing his way into the tight channel, he muffled his groan in the soft cushion of her hair. Endless nights of pleasurable memories paled in comparison to the tangible reality that was the union of their bodies.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, drawing him even farther inside. Anders thought he was going to lose all semblance of restraint right there, but he wanted to savor every moment they had left. He rocked his hips and buried his face in her shoulder, letting euphoria take over the more rational part of his mind. As he plunged into her repeatedly, he felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. With her, it was too easy to forget all of the woes that plagued him night after night.

Bethany clutched his shoulders for support and moaned plaintively in his ear. "More," she urged. He unconsciously followed her demands. "Come in me. _Please_."

He thrust forward, unleashing a climax that threatened to burst through to the wall behind her. The momentum was enough to trigger an orgasm for his partner, and she convulsed around him, drawing out every drop of his rapture with a series of frenzied spasms. When he had poured the last ounce of vitality into her, he rested his forehead against the wall. Releasing his grip on her legs, he let them slide back down to the ground, and he was lulled into a state of serenity by the sound of her panting in his ear.

It wasn't an ideal set of circumstances, but for the first time in as long as he could remember, Anders was happy. He had been granted a wonderful gift, and he wasn't ready to give it up. "Come with me," he said abruptly.

"What?"

He straightened up and hastily readjusted his clothing. "Let's go somewhere. Anywhere, I don't care. We can be far away by the time they realize you're gone."

"Anders, we can't!"

"Why not? I don't want to lose you again, and if it means fleeing the city with you in my arms…."

Bethany smiled sadly at him and stroked his cheek. "As much as I want to be with you, I can't just run away like that."

"Why not?" he repeated.

"I don't want to feel like they're chasing me again. And I can't just leave my brother. Besides Gamlen, I'm the only family he has left. This is the longest we've ever been in any one place. It's not perfect, but I've come to think of it as home."

She made valid points, but he allowed himself one more instance of selfishness in an attempt to convince her otherwise. "To know you're so close to me, yet locked away where I can't reach you is excruciating," Anders said, choking on the last word.

"Please don't make this harder than it already is." She took his hands in hers. "Besides, everyone will soon learn of the integral part the mages played in defending the city. I think things will get better for us, and we'll be treated with respect. We'll get closer to the world you want for us." She squeezed his fingers and peered up at him, her eyes filled with her distinctive combination of innocence and experience. "You do still believe that we can be free one day, don't you?"

"I want to."

"I do, too. Let's not give up on that dream, and let's not give up on us."

"You make it sound so easy."

"That's because you told me never to give up on hope." Bethany pulled him close to her again. "I need to go back to the Circle. But I'm glad we got to have a proper good-bye this time."

Anders extracted himself from her grip, only to tilt her chin up with one finger. Understanding that he had no guarantee as to when he would see her again, he kissed her softly. Love flowed through them like honey, soothing and decadent. If he had to let her go, he resigned himself to being able to do it on his own terms. "I love you," he whispered.

"I love you, too."

With a final, longing look, she was gone. She disappeared into the shadows, and Anders questioned whether the whole thing had been a dream, a wonderfully vivid illusion. The remnants of her touch lingered on his skin, and he treasured the stolen moments. All he could do was put his faith in her optimism that there would come a time when they could be together at last, unburdened by the forces that drove them apart.


	25. Return to Hope

The return to the Circle was bittersweet. Bethany's heart fluttered with excitement over the forbidden encounter with Anders, but the contented reflections would have to wait. Though the Qunari had been defeated, it had come at a great cost. Most of the mages who had volunteered to help protect the city had been slain. That she had spared had been an incredible stroke of luck, and she mourned the loss of her friends.

She stood at Orsino's side while he addressed those who had stayed behind. Keeping her head down and her gaze trained on the floor, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt over having survived when so many had not. She hoped her colleagues wouldn't fault her for what she couldn't control, and she took a moment to be thankful that she had been successful in convincing Ella not to join her.

It was nearly dawn by the time Orsino concluded his remarks. Bethany had planned on returning to her quarters to ponder the previous day's events, both good and bad, following the meeting. When the First Enchanter asked her to accompany him to his office, she complied. They walked to the small room in silence, and once inside, she sat in the chair she had occupied so many times before and waited.

A lengthy silence elapsed. "Had I known what the outcome was going to be, I might have acted differently," Orsino finally said.

"You did what you thought was right. We were simply outnumbered."

"It's comforting to hear that you don't blame me. I'm not sure I feel the same way." He sighed and leaned back, assuming his standard pensive pose. "I want to believe some good can come of this. Our brethren who died for us will not be forgotten."

Bethany nodded. "I hope the citizens of the city will also remember that magic can be used for good, to benefit them."

"There's more to it than that. I have heard that Knight-Commander Meredith plans on declaring your brother the Champion of Kirkwall, despite the fact that he was not born here."

"Oh?"

Orsino looked her over with an expression she couldn't quite interpret. "It is not a very well-kept secret that Hawke associates himself with several apostates. I know it. Meredith knows it. I would think much of the city knows it by now."

She stiffened. "Should I be concerned for his safety? Or that of…my friends?"

"Meredith is in no position to condemn him for the company he keeps. He succeeded where she could not."

"I'm sure the city will learn of that, too."

"Precisely. At the moment, she has no choice but to accept the current situation. She's not going to be happy about it, but to decry anyone who helped rescue the city from devastating ruin will only lower the public opinion of her." A small smile appeared on his thin lips. "This can work in our favor. With Hawke working – perhaps inadvertently – to remove the stigma attached to mages, we can try to raise our status. Perhaps this will lead to the end of us being treated no better than slaves."

Bethany contemplated his hypothesis. "And what about us? What can we do?"

"We'll just keep doing our best to change things from the inside. We'll do all they ask of us to show we're not a threat." The smile grew wider. "It can only benefit us if the Champion of Kirkwall has a sister who has proven herself to be an exemplary mage."

Her jaw jutted out. "I would like to think that I'm worthy of my own merit, regardless of who I may be related to."

"Oh, of course! I didn't mean it like that." He gazed upon her with almost fatherly pride, an affection she hadn't seen or felt in many years. "You've always been a consistent bright spot in this Circle, Bethany. I knew from the day you passed your Harrowing that you would be successful here, and you haven't disappointed me yet."

She felt some remorse for snapping at him, but chalked it up to her exhaustion. "Thank you."

"You're still rather young, but I can see you becoming a senior enchanter before very long. I would be lucky you have you assisting me in my council."

"You're too kind," she said, the color in her cheeks deepening.

"Your devotion to the Circle and this city is inspiring. If our mages look towards your strength of character and display similar traits, then I don't think we will have anything to worry about." Orsino stood up and crossed the office to the door. "But enough of my ramblings. It has been a very long day, and we're both well overdue for some sleep. Let's catch up on our rest before returning to our regular routine."

Bethany bowed her head in a respectful farewell and exited the room. Ella was asleep by the time she arrived at her quarters, and she was sure her younger friend would be filled with questions as soon as they were both awake. She washed up and changed into her bedclothes, remembering her more salacious activities as her robe slipped off her shoulders. The smooth cotton sheets were warm and inviting, and she sighed as she was able to finally climb into bed.

Despite her weariness, sleep did not come to her right away. She considered her conversation with Orsino and how he regarded her brother. Perhaps he would prove correct in Garrett becoming instrumental in improving their situation. Bethany knew that aside from loving her and their father, he had never felt too strongly either way when it came to the politics of mages and Templars. The mere fact that he respected and collaborated with mages, both Circle mages and apostates, could be enough, now that he was the Champion of Kirkwall.

She smiled dreamily into the pillow. Although she hadn't realized it at the time, the days of fighting alongside her brother when they first entered Kirkwall were among her happier remembrances of her familial relationships. She could no longer be at his side, but this would be the closest they would come to working together once more. The Hawke siblings would share a common goal and strive to better their surroundings again at long last.

Progress was likely to be slow, and nothing was going to change overnight, she reminded herself. Her optimism was difficult to diminish, and she couldn't help but start to plan for the future. Anders's touch was still fresh on her skin. The passion in his kiss and the way he moved inside her were vivid in her mind, and she clung to the new memories they had just created. The world of which they had both dreamed for so long could possibly be within reach. She looked forward to keeping their promise of uniting their lives where no one could drag them apart. With a peaceful sigh, Bethany drifted off to sleep.


	26. The Constant Decline

The spark that had lain dormant within Anders was rekindled by Bethany's affirmation of love. When they had first met, she had been the one seeking reassurance that she was not destined for a lifetime of fear and cruelty, and he had been more than happy to provide it to her. Now their roles had been reversed. He found himself clinging to her dreams of a happier future, even if their separation had to be drawn out a little longer. When she spoke words of peace and freedom, it was difficult not to believe everything that spilled forth from her exquisite mouth and wrap himself in the solace of her hope.

The flickers of confidence were short-lived. Following the death of the Viscount at the hands of the Arishok, Meredith had become more determined than ever to gain control of the city. The Knight-Commander had refused to appoint a new Viscount, and no one had the authority to instruct her otherwise. She ruled her Templars with an iron fist, and nobody in the city dared defy her.

Garrett was still much respected as the Champion of Kirkwall. Anders was sure that the only reason he hadn't been arrested, made Tranquil, or even put to death was due to his friend's influence. The Champion's power only extended so far, however. The apostate healer never strayed far from his clinic alone. Meredith had all but destroyed the mage underground movement, and he was no longer sure who else could be trusted besides his closest friend. Paranoia overwhelmed his desire to help the less fortunate, and he opened his doors to the needy with rapidly decreasing frequency.

The less he did, the more the voice of Justice raged inside his head. He knew he should be doing more to protect the innocent mages, but he felt helpless in the face of organizations and traditions so much bigger than he alone. The vengeful spirit within him was growing stronger, blooming into yet another force he could do nothing about. There were times he gave up the fight and let Justice take over, fervently wishing that his loss of control wouldn't lead to dangerous actions.

Time passed more quickly than he would have expected after shutting out most of the outside world. His acquaintances checked on him periodically, though there were some he would have preferred not to see. Letters from Bethany (delivered to him by her brother) slowed, and then stopped completely. Garrett assured him that she was safe, but the Templars were keeping a close eye on all activity at the Circle.

"Did they follow you here?" Anders frantically asked his friend when he arrived for one of his visits.

"I think I would have noticed if any heavily armored Templars were clanking after me through the quiet streets of the undercity."

The mage was in no mood for jokes. "I don't know how much longer I can go on like this," he said softly. "There's so much evil in Kirkwall, and there's so much darkness seeping through me."

Garrett raised an eyebrow. "You're not going to do anything drastic, are you?"

"I don't know what I'm capable of anymore." Anders was too ashamed to look him directly in the eye. "Everything's slipping away from me, Hawke. Who I am, what I believe…in addition to the anger, there's an emptiness sucking away everything inside me, and I don't know how much longer I can resist it."

"You're going to have to resist it. I'm not willing to give up on you, and I refuse to tell Bethany that you've given up on yourself."

_Bethany_. The mere mention of her name was enough to restore some semblance of sanity, even if it could only last a few moments. "I'm terrified that the memories of her will vanish, too," he confessed. "And then I can't help but wonder if it's for the best. Perhaps if I forgot all the joy and beauty she brought to me, it will dull the pain of everything else in comparison."

"You don't mean that."

"Don't I?"

"If you did, you would have volunteered to be made Tranquil by now."

"Somehow, I don't think that option's entirely off the table with Meredith in charge."

Garrett didn't answer right away. "The city's been going through some hard times, this is true. It's been almost three years since we defeated the Arishok, and I'm just as disappointed as you are that things got worse instead of getting better. I'm almost to the point where I've considered seeing if life is any easier somewhere else, but I suppose the Champion of Kirkwall can't just up and leave it behind."

"The thought's crossed my mind on more than one occasion as well." Anders ran his hands through his hair, relieved that the turmoil that often clouded his mind had settled for the time being. "I asked her to leave with me, you know."

"What?"

"That night, after we killed the Arishok. She was waiting for me, and I said we could leave Kirkwall." He wasn't sure what Garrett's reaction would be to the end of the story. "She said she was tired of running, and that she didn't want to leave you."

The warrior shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "I…I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's not your fault." He sighed. "I should have known better than to ask. She told me so many times about how your childhood was spent fleeing from one place to the next and how she was glad she finally had a place to call home, flawed as it may be."

"It was worth a shot."

Anders paced around the clinic, unsure if it was more of a home or a prison by this point. "I'd never leave Kirkwall without her. Especially not now, with _that woman_ in control of the city. She's going to destroy us, I'm sure of it."

"I do hope you're wrong." Garrett didn't sound as convincing as either of them would have hoped.

"Time will tell." The restless mage completed his circle around the room, ending back in front of his friend. "I didn't mean to worry you. I'll be fine."

"Let me know if you ever need anything. I mean that."

"Thank you."

Anders locked the door once he was alone again. Bethany's fate in the Circle weighed heavy on his mind, even overcoming his concerns about his own future. He swore never to let Meredith or her Templars cause her any harm, but the thought reeked of empty, futile promises.

She had never come even remotely close to succumbing to a demon's temptation, or resorting to blood magic, or any other danger the mages were so often accused of. He, in turn, had committed a number of grievous acts. As the infuriated voice boomed inside his head, he couldn't help but think he was beyond redemption. Bethany deserved to live, and live freely. The verdict had yet to be delivered on him.

Something had to happen. Something had to change in the city. He didn't want to lose their love, but he was willing to sacrifice himself if it meant she would survive the cruel tyranny they faced. The plans he had been inconsistently formulating over the years began to take a clear shape in his mind. Anders had always believed that she deserved better than him. It was time to selflessly give her his dream.


	27. Observation

Every time she moved, Bethany couldn't help but feel she was being watched. The presence of the Templars at the Gallows had only increased over the past several years. New recruits appeared to be added every day, swarming the corridors and keeping a domineering eye on the mages in their charge. They were there during meals. They were there during the lessons taught to the apprentices. She was starting to wonder when one would be appointed to her bedchamber while she slept.

Even the statues seemed to be watching her. Their cold metallic eyes followed her as she traveled about the premises, silently reminding her of the similarities in their fates. Rather than approaching the freedom she had dreamed of, the mages were set on a path bringing them closer and closer to the slavery she thought had been abolished. Orsino did his best to speak out against the changes to the Circle. He instructed the others to continue following orders and not do anything to attract unwanted attention, choosing to take the brunt of Meredith's ire for raising concern about their treatment.

As a pair of Templars escorted her towards the entrance of the Gallows, Bethany heard raised voices engaged in an argument. She expected to see Orsino fighting with the guards again, and was surprised to see her brother fuming in a fit of rage. "I'm the Champion of this city! I don't need a damn chaperone when I visit my sister!" he snapped.

"Garrett!" She hurried down the stairs, assigned guardsmen in tow. "It's okay. Calm down."

"It's not okay." The volume of his voice was softer since she'd announced her arrival, but his face was still bright red and his eyes were narrowed at the objects of his ire. "They're trying to tell me that I'm now not allowed to see you unaccompanied."

She wasn't surprised by the new change in policy for visitors to the Circle. "I'm glad you came," she said, trying to ease the tension. "It doesn't matter if they're here or not. We can still have a pleasant visit."

"This is bullsh—"

"Is there a problem here?" spoke a voice from behind them.

Bethany recognized the newcomer without needing to turn around. Knight-Captain Cullen was one of the more sympathetic of the higher-ranked Templars, yet there was still no denying his position in the Gallows. Garrett spun to face him, and she cringed at the thought of an altercation. Despite his anger, the elder Hawke was able to revert to a calm, respectful tone, albeit slightly tinged with sarcasm. "Knight-Captain, I'm afraid some of your men are trying to prevent me from having a private conversation with my sister."

"Is that so?"

"I know we're in the Gallows, but I must say, I don't much appreciate being treated like a criminal after all I've done for this city. It's not like I'm going to whisk her away from this place once your backs are turned."

"I'm sure we can work something out."

It was the guards' turn to sputter with annoyance. "But the Knight-Commander said –"

"I know what her orders are," Cullen cut him off. "I assure you, there will not be any repercussions for you when I let the Hawkes converse alone in one of our more secluded rooms for a short time."

It was obvious that the guards were not pleased at having been overruled, but they knew better than to argue with their superior. Bethany and Garrett followed the Knight-Captain to a small chamber off the main foyer. Once he had left, she put a finger to her lips, reminding him to keep his voice down as they couldn't be too sure of who was lurking outside.

"I don't like this, Bethany."

"I don't either." She sighed before asking the question that had been lingering on her mind, as much as she hated to do it. "Isn't there anything else you can do for us? People listen to you in this city. Surely if you were to come out against all the new impositions the mages have had to face…."

"I wish I could." He frowned at her. "The city is still recovering from the attack three years ago. I don't want another war to break out so soon. I'm not sure if Kirkwall could handle the strain."

"I don't know how much longer things can go on like this. Something's bound to snap eventually."

"I agree. But I don't want to fan the flames. I don't want to be the one who pushes the city over the brink into destruction."

Bethany nodded. "I'm afraid, Garrett," she whispered so softly, her words could barely be heard. "For the first time since my Harrowing, I'm afraid of what's going to happen to me."

"I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you. I promise."

"I've always done everything they've asked of me. I believed Orsino when he said we could change things from within. I've tried to maintain hope all this time, not just for myself, but for the people around me."

"Don't give up on that just yet."

"I'll try not to." She exhaled slowly. "It's difficult some days, though."

"I know."

Bethany fidgeted with the edge of her robe. There was one more question she needed to ask her brother before she left. She wasn't sure if she wanted to hear the answer. "Is Anders okay? I've been afraid to write to him."

"About as best as can be expected."

"And is he safe? You're keeping an eye out for him, aren't you?"

Garrett's expression softened. "Of course I am." He tilted his head to the side and raised a quizzical eyebrow. "Are you sure you don't want to send him a letter? I'll take it to him myself."

"I can't." Though they were alone in the room, her eyes darted around nervously. "They're _always_ watching us here. I can always feel their presence around me. I'm afraid to do anything that could possibly lead them to him. I'd never forgive myself if…." The first hints of tears appeared, and she couldn't finish the sentence.

"I understand."

"Just tell him…tell him that…."

"I got it. Don't worry about it." He glanced towards the door. "I'm afraid to test the limits of Cullen's patience too much. I should probably get going soon."

"I know. Thanks for coming."

He gave her a hug, a rare display of affection from the fierce warrior. "Stay strong, Bethany. Things are going to work out eventually, and you're going to be just fine."

"I hope you're right."

They exited the room, where Bethany was immediately flanked by the guards who had brought her. After Garrett left the Gallows, they brought her back upstairs, where she chose to return to her quarters. Ella was elsewhere, and she took advantage of the solitary silence to organize her thoughts.

It wasn't the first time she questioned her decision not to leave Kirkwall with Anders the night of the Arishok's defeat. There was no use in trying to change the past, and she needed to concentrate on controlling her own future. Plans for escape had crossed her mind more than once, but she was terrified of the consequences were she to be unsuccessful. She knew exactly where she'd go if she managed to break free from the Gallows, and the threat of leading the Templars directly to her lover still hovered over her and kept her firmly in place.

Bethany had no choice but to put her faith in Orsino's directions to follow orders with a smile on her face. The Templars would find no fault with her behavior or actions, and she would give them no reason to question the intentions of the mages in the Circle. If she could help improve the situation, she would do it through compliance and peace.


	28. Left Behind

"You didn't have to hit me that hard, you know!"

"Oh, Isabela, don't be coy. You know you like it rough."

"Yes, but I don't go around advertising that to the whole world!"

"…Since when?"

Laughter rippled around the table, accompanied by the noise of sloshing beverages and clanking coins. Garrett had asked Anders to assist him and Isabela in taking down her archenemy once and for all, and had even convinced the apostate to join them for a round of drinks at The Hanged Man afterwards. Anders reluctantly agreed. Though he was surrounded by people he mostly trusted, he couldn't help but feel uneasy in such a public place. He rarely ventured far from Darktown these days, and when he did, it was usually in the presence of the Champion. Garrett had been successful so far in diverting the Templars' attention away from his friend. How long it would last remained to be seen.

"Now that you have a ship, does that mean that you'll be leaving Kirkwall?" Aveline asked brightly.

"I haven't decided yet." Isabela smirked at her. "I think you've still got a few feathers left for me to ruffle, big girl. I'd miss that too much."

"I suppose there would be a certain emptiness in my life if you weren't around to mock me and pry into my personal affairs at every opportunity."

"I thought Donnic was filling all your empty bits these days."

The guard captain shook her head. "See? I'd be lost if I didn't have all those comments to look forward to."

Garrett grinned and slipped his arm around the pirate's waist. "There are days when the open seas do sound appealing." He kissed her cheek. "But now that you're back with us, I'm not going to let you go sailing off into the sunset just yet. I'll tie you down if I have to."

"Promises, promises." Without pulling away from him, she gave the tip of his nose a friendly poke with her finger. "Besides, I always assumed you were coming with me when I departed. I could use someone like you on my crew."

"I'd never pass up the opportunity to work underneath you."

More laughter ensued. Garrett signaled to the barmaid to bring another round. As the Champion argued with his friends over who was to have the privilege of paying for the new drinks, Anders took the opportunity to quietly slip outside for some fresh air. He toyed with the idea of walking back to Darktown alone, but chose to take a moment to relish in his break from the dank, gloomy undercity instead.

The stars twinkled in the inky sky, blissfully unaware of the turmoil that simmered in the city beneath them. The jovial atmosphere inside the tavern had been a welcome interruption to the mage's routine. He hadn't been able to lose himself completely to his friends' light-hearted teasing and other jocularities, however. Somehow, it didn't seem fair for him to have a good time when he knew that so many others were living a less pleasurable existence on the other side of the city at the Gallows.

The door opened, and Anders expected to see another drunk come tumbling out after being forcibly evicted. Instead, Garrett came striding outside and located him within a matter of seconds. "Hey, you're still here. I thought you'd gone home."

"Not yet. I figured I'd enjoy the lovely evening for a little bit longer before running the risk of getting snapped up by the Templars on my journey back to the clinic."

"Well, at least you still have your sense of humor."

Anders offered a half smile for his friend's behalf, though he remained gazing at the constellations. "I hope you didn't drag yourself away from Isabela and the others on my account."

"Nah. I figured I'd let the girls have their fun, seeing who can come up with the wittier insult tonight."

"A competition that never gets old." He glanced at Garrett. "I'm glad that things are going well between you and Isabela. I mean that."

"I just hope she doesn't take off in the middle of the night without telling me again, now that she has her own means of transportation."

"I don't think she will."

Garrett scratched his chin pensively. "I think she's serious about wanting me to sail with her one day."

"Are you going to take her up on her offer?"

"I don't know. I just might. Maker knows we've all talked about getting away from this city at one point or another." He raised an eyebrow. "She said you could join us, if you want."

Anders breathed deeply, considering the proposition. "It's tempting. But I…I can't. I wouldn't leave her behind."

"I know. I don't think I could leave Bethany to deal with this mess on her own right now, either."

He paused. "How is she, anyway?"

The tipsy warrior laughed. "Funny, she asked the same thing about you just the other day." His cheery smile didn't last long. "I'm sorry that you still can't be together. I know she loves you, and it's not fair. If I could change the situation, I would."

"I know."

Garrett kicked at the dusty street with the tip of his boot. "Some nights, I still wonder why Isabela came back to me. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful that she did. But I don't know why I got a second chance and you didn't. It's not like I did anything to deserve it."

Anders was surprised at his friend's uncharacteristic bout of introspection. "I wouldn't worry too much. You've done plenty of good for this city, as well as the people around you."

He snorted. "As long as the good outweighs the colossal disasters, and the times that I just can't keep my mouth shut, right?"

"Something like that."

"I'm glad you're so supportive," Garrett said dryly. He cast a look back inside the bustling pub. "Should we head back inside before they think we're up to something scandalous out here?"

"You go ahead. I think I'll just head home."

"Sure you don't want an escort?"

"Thanks, but I think it's late enough that I'll be able to avoid the Templars. They're probably out drinking in their own taverns, anyway."

"Fair enough. I'll see you soon!"

Anders kept to the shadows as he made his way back to the clinic. The streets were mostly empty, but he tried to stay aware of his surroundings at all times. Some days he believed it would only be a matter of time before Meredith's men caught up to him. Some days he almost wished it would just happen already so he could be done with it.

The apostate mage balanced on the line between fear and action. His plans to fight for those trapped in the Circle became more detailed with each passing day; he just had to decide when to implement them. The voice of Justice urged him onwards, merged with his own desire for vengeance and willingness to sacrifice himself. Not only had the Templars destroyed the hopes of freedom for the mages, they had taken his love from him and held her captive in the chains of their cruelty. It was time to put an end to their contemptible acts before they destroyed Bethany, too.


	29. Disappearing Act

_Moonlight streamed in the window, illuminating the four walls of the pristine room. The lavish furniture had been returned; if this was a prison cell, at least it was aesthetically pleasing. Bethany stared at her reflection in the floor-length mirror. The white lace dress still clung to her frame, utterly flawless in its fit and appearance. Where were her robes?_

_ A knock at the door disturbed her speculation. Fear oozed out over her skin in a clammy chill, and her mouth grew dry. Someone was here for her. As much as she wanted to hide from the unwanted guest, she knew she had to face her fate sooner or later. Whatever lay in store for her, she wouldn't give them the satisfaction of cowering before them. _

_ She flung open the door and gasped. Instead of the heavily armored Templars she'd expected, it was Anders who greeted her. He was dressed in a noble's finery, and the smile that spread across his face warmed her heart with its genuine delight. She stepped aside to let him enter, and he immediately took her into his arms. _

_ Bethany didn't have time to ask why he was there before his mouth closed over hers in an impassioned kiss. She closed her eyes and sank into him, letting him steal her breath with his lustful advance. His body was inviting beneath her inquisitive fingers, and she sought to remove the exquisite fabric that separated her from the intimate touch of his skin. _

_ He moved away from her and ran his hand along the sleeve that encased her arm. Stepping behind her, he found the first of a long line of buttons that descended in a column down her back. The top one was unfastened with painstaking care, followed by the next, and the next…._

_ She was tempted to simply tear the dress off, but he refused to let her go. Their gazes met in the mirror's reflection, and she could only watch as he took his time with his deliberate manipulations. Anders's ardent stare never left hers and she could see the fire that burned hungrily in his deep set eyes. _

_ After what felt like hours, the dress finally slipped off her shoulders. She let it fall to the floor, taking a small step out of the crumpled pile of lace and silk. Her smallclothes were the only remaining obstruction, and they were quickly pushed away. _

_ A pair of strong, gentle hands traversed her exposed skin. Without taking his eyes off her reflection, he brushed her hair aside and ducked his head down. His tongue traced the rim of her ear while he caressed the ample flesh of her breasts, taking their full weight into his grasp. His thumbs mirrored the circular motions, teasing the petal pink buds into hardened peaks. _

_ Bethany never ceased to be amazed at the reactions he could elicit from her. Her cravings for his touch had gone unfulfilled for so long. She was torn between wanting to close her eyes and lose herself to the rush of heat flooding her senses and not wanting to miss out on the visual presentation Anders was providing her. Leaning back, she nestled her head against his shoulder and pressed her body along the length of his. She could feel the outline of his unyielding erection, and her breath caught in her throat._

_ One of his hands dipped lower, skimming the milky skin of her stomach. She squirmed against him as his fingers skirted the area that was so desperately yearning for his attention, but he held her in place. Her hips jerked forward of their own volition, and she repeated his name in a plaintive murmur. Acquiescing to her urgent request, he slid inside, gliding easily through the slickness of her arousal._

Bethany awoke with a start, gasping for air. The shards of the dream lingered at the edge of her consciousness, and she struggled to hold on to them for as long as possible. Every nerve was set aflame, as if Anders were truly beside her to stoke the embers of their faithful desire. Her heart raced in her chest, and her arms ached to hold the man she loved so much. The pleasurable fantasy slipped away far too soon, and she was left with the disappointing emptiness that haunted her daily.

She glanced to the side and saw that her roommate was still asleep. Taking advantage of the private moment, she let the tears that had sprung to her eyes slide down to her pillow, suppressing the urge to sob openly. How could her mind play such a malicious trick on her? How could her own brain taunt her with thoughts of what simply could not be?

Hope was slipping through her fingers with each passing day, much like the sands on the coast she feared she would never see again. All efforts on the part of the Circle mages did nothing to improve their situation. The future looked bleak, clouded with nothing but assurances of more imposing restrictions and dismal treatment. She wanted to believe that there could be change, that they could veer off the path they were heading down with rapidly increasing speed. It was getting harder and harder to feed the light of faith that still glimmered in the core of her soul. Should she allow it to extinguish, she would fail those who loved her and looked up to her.

Bethany had just swung her feet out of the bed when someone banged on the door. "Just a minute!" she called softly, taking note of the early hour. Ella stirred across the room, but did not wake. Tiptoeing across the floor, she quietly opened the door.

Two Templars waited outside. They wore their full armor, complete with helmets that obscured their faces. "Get dressed," one said gruffly. "The First Enchanter wishes to speak with you."

She nodded wordlessly, and retrieved her robe from where it was hanging. Hastily throwing it on over the thin gown she slept in, she stepped into her shoes and joined them in the hallway. They led her away from her quarters, through the corridors that were devoid of people before sunrise. "Did the First Enchanter say what this meeting was about?" she asked. There was no answer.

Before they reached Orsino's office, one of the guards grabbed her by the shoulders and steered her into a dark passage off the main route. "What are you doing?" Bethany exclaimed. "This isn't –"

A searing pain ripped through her head, causing her to double over. She tried to scream, but no sound came out of her mouth. Were it not for the stabbing flashes that were encroaching on her limbs, she would have thought that this was another one of her nightmares. The stinging sensations were far too real, and there was no way to escape. No one knew where she was, and no one could save her. She had just enough time to issue a silent prayer to the Maker that Garrett and Anders would learn what happened to her before everything went black.


	30. Motivation

Anders was in the process of tidying up his desk when Garrett burst through the door unannounced, nearly snapping it off its hinges with his sudden entrance. The mage was able to overcome his initial surprise to deliver a dry remark. "Good thing I wasn't getting undressed."

"It's Bethany," Garrett said, panting for breath. "They took her."

"What?" He felt the color drain from his face. "Who took her? Where?"

"Rebels…Templars and mages…" he wheezed. "They're on the Wounded Coast. Come on."

Anders needed no further convincing. He retrieved his staff from the corner and followed his friend out of the clinic, to where Isabela and Aveline were waiting. On their way out of Darktown, Garrett filled him in on the plot of an underground group working to overthrow the Knight-Commander. Anders would have marveled at the idea of mages and Templars working together to achieve the ousting of that horrid woman, but worry over his lover's predicament eclipsed everything else. While their goal may have been admirable, anger simmered inside him as he contemplated their means. Bethany deserved better than to be used as a simple pawn. "Why her? What did she do?"

The grimace that darkened Garrett's countenance did nothing to slow their pace. "Apparently, some members in this group think I'm spying on them and working to undermine their cause."

"But you're not…are you?"

"Of course not."

Anders chose his next words carefully. "Perhaps since you haven't publically taken a stance against Meredith and her treatment of the mages, they weren't sure if you could be trusted."

The warrior's eyes narrowed as they hurried along. "Openly choosing a side isn't going to help matters any. I'm doing everything I can to stop another war from tearing Kirkwall apart, and I'm trying not to add fuel to the fire. Don't think that it's easy being in my position."

"…I'm sorry."

"Look, you know how I feel about mages. Bethany knows, too. Unfortunately, there are plenty of people in the city who don't share our views. I may disagree with them, but I still don't want to see any harm come to them if I can help it."

They continued towards their destination in silence. The sandy hills of the coast came into view soon enough, and Garrett led the way towards where he believed his sister was being kept. As they descended towards the sea, they encountered a former Templar who Anders vaguely recalled dealing with in the past. He let Garrett speak to him, all while focusing on their current mission. Was Bethany even here? Had they hurt her? Was she still alive?

Answers to his questions came soon enough. After navigating a narrow passage to a clearing, he caught a glimpse of a dark-haired figure, clad in unmistakable blue robes. She didn't move as they got closer. He started towards her, but someone grabbed his wrist and held him back. Fully prepared to argue with Garrett again, he turned around, only to see Isabela holding a finger to her lips. She nodded towards the group of Templars that had approached them, and he understood. It wouldn't do anyone any good if he revealed their hidden love to those who had not yet proved their worth.

An argument with a third party snapped his attention away from Bethany. Anders recognized the angry woman as an escaped mage they had helped several years ago. Unfortunately, she did not seem intent on repaying their kindness. Anders would have never expected that Thrask, the Templar who had also been involved in the previous incident, would be the more rational of the two. "Let the hostage go," the uniformed man said to her.

She wasn't ready to abandon the plan just yet. "No! The girl dies, then the Champion!"

"Stand down, Grace!"

Anders couldn't believe that a fellow mage was willing to turn on them. "Grace?" he spoke up, no longer caring about the attention he was drawing to himself. "We saved you. What are you doing?"

They paid him no heed and continued the argument that was rising in intensity. Garrett tried to intervene and negotiate a more rational conclusion, but he was similarly rebuked. Grace delivered another order to kill Bethany, and Anders felt Isabela's strong fingers wrap around his wrist again, preventing him from moving forward. The rebel mage's ire grew as her followers defied her, and he sensed the shift in her before anyone else. Despite the presence of the Templars, he reached for his staff. He knew that Garrett would never let them harm Bethany, but after all both siblings had done for him, he was prepared to defend the Hawkes, regardless of the risks.

His suspicions proved to be correct when Grace plunged her own staff into her abdomen. She had succumbed to the lure of blood magic. Before anyone could react, she extended her hand and sucked Thrask's life from his body with a forbidden spell. "Forget the hostage," she declared. "Kill the Champion!"

The battle for the survival of the Hawkes was on. Grace's human form was easily destroyed, but an abomination rose in her place. Any progress the underground group may have made was obliterated, as mages and Templars fought yet again. Anders hated the idea of killing those he had sworn to protect, but they had left him no other choice. Grace's actions had only led credence to his belief that blood magic was never a valid solution for any problem. The chaos raged around Bethany's unconscious body; the threat of further injury only fueled his strength.

When the last of the attackers had been eliminated, both he and Garrett rushed to her side. Her eyes were closed, and her skin had been robbed of its rosy pallor. Attempts to rouse her were unsuccessful, as were his healing spells. "_No…oh, no…Maker, please…."_

The mage who had refused to kill her stepped out from his hiding place, having survived the melee. He revealed that Grace had used blood magic to hold her, and it would be the only way to bring her out of her current state. Anders's stomach churned at the thought of the vile methods that had been used, and he was revolted by the thought of more similar acts. It had been a day filled with unappealing options, and he knew that his own moral stances were less important than bringing his beloved Bethany back.

Droplets of the mage's blood spattered her body, and her eyelids flew open. She sat up and looked around, taking in her surroundings. Anders longed to scoop her into his arms and drag her away from the site himself, but before he could move, more Templars arrived, led by Knight-Captain Cullen. Bethany stiffened, and he retreated into their mutual fear.

She refused his wordless offer to help her to her feet, standing up on her own accord. He stepped away, torn between the urge to reach out to her again and the unwillingness to expose their relationship to those who would vilify it. Garrett spoke to the Knight-Captain, giving him the basic details of everything that had transpired. While they debated the fate of the last of Grace's followers, Anders couldn't take his eyes off Bethany, but she wouldn't look at him. Her gaze was trained on the sandy ground as she waited to be returned to her original state of captivity. It didn't matter if she was in the hands of the rebels or imprisoned at the Circle. The results were the same.

Cullen and his men left with their recovered mages in tow. This time, there were no furtive glances, no secretive touches as Bethany walked by. Trepidation and anxiety had suppressed the part of her that still believed they could be together, Anders realized. The Templars had succeeded in crushing the piece of her soul that had always been a beacon to him, shining with the promise of a better future.

Garrett left to follow up with the First Enchanter, as he knew Cullen would be responsible for giving the full report to Meredith. Aveline and Isabela offered to join him, but Anders had no desire to set foot inside the Gallows. With nothing left to do, he started the solitary trek back to Darktown. As he walked, he had expected to feel the effects of all the rage that sprung up from time to time. He anticipated the voice of Justice screaming inside his head, but it was strangely subdued. Instead of flames that exploded out of control, his fury had been replaced by a slow, deliberate burn.

Bethany was alive, but it wasn't enough. It was only a matter of time before she was no better than the Tranquil, robbed of the essence that had defined her previous demeanor. He wouldn't let them take any more from her, even if it was at his own expense. If the cause of the mage's liberation needed a sacrifice, it would be him, not her. He had finally been given the extra push he needed to put his plan into action.


	31. Survival

Upon her return to the Gallows, Bethany was immediately escorted to Orsino's office. She would have much preferred to go directly to her chambers, but not many choices were left in her hands these days. The remnants of the spell used to subdue her lingered on her body. She felt as if she were tainted by the abhorrent blood magic, and though she realized she was imagining most of its effects, she couldn't wait to scrub the memories of the day off her skin.

It wasn't long before the First Enchanter joined her. "Thank the Maker you're alive!" he said, taking a seat across from her. "I've just come back from speaking with your brother."

"Garrett was here?"

"Yes." Lines creased Orsino's forehead as he furrowed his brow. "I'm the one who asked him to look into this rebel movement. I had no idea they had taken you. What happened?"

"I don't remember much," Bethany admitted. "A pair of Templars was taking me to see you when they…did something to me. I'm not sure what. It's clear to me now that they were not who they appeared to be."

He nodded. "I will try to look into it without raising Meredith's suspicions. I hope that due to your brother's actions, the danger has passed for now."

"Why did you ask him to investigate in the first place?"

"As you know, I've been doing everything my power to keep the Circle safe from the Knight-Commander's power. I fear she's looking for any excuse to invoke the Right of Annulment." His frown grew deeper. "I was afraid that some of our brethren in the Circle were secretly practicing blood magic. I wanted to be wrong."

Just the words "blood magic" were enough to send another shock of nausea through her system. "So what now?"

"I don't know. I'm sure Meredith has caught wind of this. I'll try to smooth things over with her and tell her that I and the majority of the mages here had no knowledge of the rebels' plans."

Bethany found his lack of conviction unsettling. "Do you think she'll believe you?"

"No."

They sat in silence for several moments. "Is there anything else we can do?" she asked softly.

"Other than pray every day that she won't order our executions?" Orsino rubbed his temples with his thumb and forefinger. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. Please don't repeat that to the others."

"I won't."

"It's becoming difficult to encourage positivity among those in the Circle these days. But I shall vow to do better and continue to work towards a peaceful solution. It is my duty to you, after all."

"I will try to do the same." Bethany tried to stifle a yawn, but was unsuccessful. "If there's nothing else to discuss right now…."

"Yes, yes, of course." He waved her off with a flick of his hand. "Go rest. I've kept you long enough."

A hot bath and the comfort of her bed were further delayed as she found Garrett waiting for her outside Orsino's door. He led her to an airy atrium at the end of the hallway and dismissed any Templars who stepped too close to them with a ferocious glare. They took a seat on a stone bench, a safe distance away from any inquisitive eyes and ears.

"This was all my fault," he grumbled.

"Don't say that! Of course it wasn't!"

"They used you to get to me. I failed at protecting you."

Bethany shook her head vigorously. "You rescued me."

"Only because we got there in time." Garrett rested his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands. "This whole time, I believed that I could continue to help the people of Kirkwall. I thought I could do good things and prevent another catastrophe. But if I can't even protect my own sister, how can I expect to do the same for the whole city?"

She wanted to reassure him, but her recent conversation with Orsino had drained her of most of her optimism. "You shouldn't think like that. The city needs you now more than ever."

"I don't think I can do enough. I don't think anyone can at this point."

"Fine, then. _I_ need you. You're still my big brother, and you've never let me down." She patted his shoulder, hoping the gesture would comfort her as much as him. "Things are bad, Garrett. Very bad. I don't have a chance at making them better from in here, so I'm counting on you to do what's right."

"I don't even know what the right thing is anymore."

Bethany hesitated before speaking again. "There is one thing you can do for me."

"What's that?"

She closed her eyes, trying to fight back the wave of emotion that threatened to strangle her voice and send tears dribbling down her cheeks. "Tell Anders to leave Kirkwall. Help him get someplace safe."

"He's not going to do that, especially with you still trapped here."

"_Convince him_. He won't be safe in the city much longer. And if I'm beyond hope, then maybe at least he…." Her despair swallowed the end of her thought.

Garrett sighed. "I'll try. But I doubt it will work."

"Thank you."

The warrior looked around to make sure there was no one within earshot. "You know, those other mages were able to sneak out at night," he whispered. "Did you ever consider –"

"No. I can't," Bethany said in the same hushed tones. "I'm too afraid of what they would do to me if they caught me."

"Understandable. I wouldn't want to put my influence to that strenuous of a test."

"And I wouldn't ask that much of you." She returned her hand to her brother's arm. "But please, remember my other request."

"I'll talk to him soon and do everything in my power to encourage him to get out of here."

Bethany bid him farewell and finally returned to the quarters she hadn't expected to miss so much. As soon as she crossed the threshold, Ella flung her arms around her, excitedly babbling about how glad she was for her friend's safety. Bethany hugged her back and tried to make light of the situation, remembering her promises to Orsino. The younger mage soon left her alone to wash up and rest, and she was glad to be able to slip into an unsullied set of robes.

The refreshing water and clean garments couldn't erase the predicament she faced. Even her leader was questioning their safety in Kirkwall's Circle. Bethany didn't want to think of what could happen to her in the upcoming days once Meredith learned of the rebel movement, but she had started to accept that she was powerless to prevent her own demise. She could only hope that Anders would follow her wishes and save himself before it was too late.


	32. Arrangements

Anders stood in the darkest recesses of the Chantry. No one had seen him enter, and the Grand Cleric was a safe distance away, speaking with Garrett. The mage had his assembled materials with him. The next step was to plant them in the necessary places. His hands shook as he worked, and a small part of him couldn't believe what he was doing. Terrible crimes had been committed against the mages in Kirkwall, and he was about to commit one of his own in return. He'd reached the point of no return, he realized as he remembered how he had gotten this far.

"I have a favor to ask of you."

"Does this mean you're going to follow my advice and get out of Kirkwall before the Templars apprehend you?" Garrett asked.

"…Not quite." The Champion had made the suggestion to flee Kirkwall several times already, but Anders couldn't bring himself to do so. The overpowering voice of Justice wouldn't let him leave while so many mages were fighting simply to survive. His heart wouldn't let him abandon Bethany and leave her defenseless in their struggle. It was because of Garrett's consistent concern for his well-being and the support he had offered that he was about to lie to his closest friend. "I've spent the last three years researching the methods of Tevinter magisters."

He proceeded to tell his carefully-crafted story of a potion that could free him from Justice. With the right ingredients, he claimed, he could rid his body of the spirit that had haunted him for the better part of a decade. Garrett was more than willing to help him collect his materials, and the pair set off for the Darktown sewers after enlisting the aid of Isabela and Fenris. The latter appeared none too pleased to be dragged along on this mission, but he kept his negative comments to a minimum.

The warrior and his companions kept the thugs and smugglers at bay as Anders collected sela petrae from various deposits. Once he had enough, they left the city limits in search of drakestone. A mine near the Bone Pit provided him with what he needed, though he had to assist his friends in battling past hordes of spiders. He was able to procure enough of the second ingredient, and Garrett offered to escort him back to Darktown.

Back at the clinic, he was prepared to request one more favor. "There is one more thing I would ask of you, Hawke. And I can't tell you why."

"What is it?"

Anders longed to confess his plans to his friend. He had already unburdened so much of his torment on him, and he wanted some reassurance from a source other than the voice in his head that his actions were not those of a madman. However, he had decided to take full responsibility for what was going to happen. The deaths he would cause would one day improve lives, and he fervently hoped that both Hawkes would eventually benefit from the culmination of his quest for freedom. "I must get inside the Chantry, without being seen…."

The explosives were in place. They were arranged in a way to cause maximum destruction to the sacred building, leaving it as nothing but a pile of rubble. All he had left to do was decide when to detonate them.

Anders emerged from the shadows and walked towards where Garrett was standing with Elthina. "There you are!" he greeted him, perhaps overly cheerfully. If the Grand Cleric was suspicious, she didn't show it.

Back home, he resumed his usual nervous habit of pacing circles around the empty clinic. There was one final step to take, one last motion to deliver his statement to the world. Justice urged him to act, and his own desire for vengeance pushed him forward. He tried to think clearly through the haze of roiling determination and come up with a well-timed conclusion for his final plot.

Days passed, and he made peace with his decision to descend into the ranks of terrorism. Knowing the explosives were in position led to a calm sensation enveloping his tortured mind. True freedom would never be granted to him, but he would still find peace.

Being aware of the approaching end of his life allowed him to make plans. The doors to his clinic were opened once more so he could offer medical aid to those who needed it while he was still able to do so. He gave the only sentimental possession he had to Varric, knowing the dwarf liked anything that had a good story behind it. He organized and stored the writings he had composed over the years, all while wondering if anyone would ever find them.

Anders didn't know what would happen to his home once he was gone. The Templars could search the premises for more evidence of similar plots and rebellion, or they could burn the whole structure to the ground and erase any trace of the apostate who had eluded their grasp. Alternately, the doors could be closed indefinitely, and dust would gather in the safe haven he'd built for himself, soon to be forgotten. Regardless of what the outcome would be, he felt compelled to leave something behind.

He wrote letters. Whether they would ever get to their intended recipients, he would never find out. He wished Isabela luck in her sailing pursuits and return to the open seas. He thanked Aveline for keeping his secret for all these years and not turning him over to the Templars. He even wrote to Fenris and expressed his hope that the former slave could find a similar solace in his existence.

Finding the words to thank Garrett for everything he had done was difficult. Anders knew the warrior preferred to steer clear of overly emotional matters. He kept his heartfelt missive brief, and hoped his friend knew the significant role he had played in the mage's life.

Lastly, there was Bethany. There was so much he wanted to tell her, so much he wanted to apologize for, so many promises he wouldn't make in fear they would be broken. He wanted to reaffirm their love and reassure her that even without him, he hoped her future would be fulfilling and free of the people who would condemn her simply because she was born with a special gift. He urged her to move past the grief his absence might cause, and rekindle the light that had initially attracted him to her. If he had to die, he would choose to do it in a way that would restore her life.

Anders collected his letters and stowed them away safely on a high shelf. There was nothing left for him to do but wait for the right moment. He would be lying if he claimed his fear had completely dissipated, but he was ready.

It wasn't long before the opportunity presented itself in the form of Garrett appearing at his door. "I've been told that Orsino and Meredith got into a terrible argument," he said. "I'm going to try to calm them down, but I'm worried that this might be the last straw. I could use any additional support I can get – will you join me?"

The time had come. "Yes," Anders said. "Go ahead, I'll catch up to you. There's something I need to take care of first."


	33. Fire in the Sky

"Meredith has gone too far!" The gray-haired elf's booming voice was incongruous with his more docile appearance. "I will not let her destroy us!"

The group of enchanters Orsino addressed murmured their various opinions. Bethany chose to remain focused on her leader's stirring remarks. "What can we do?" she asked calmly.

"I'm going to speak to the Grand Cleric. She can no longer remain neutral in this conflict. Andraste did not intend for this unspeakable injustice among her followers!" Grim determination darkened his face. "Those who wish to join me in making my plea, I grant you permission to leave the Circle with me. I will be departing shortly."

There was no hesitation in Bethany's decision. She never left the First Enchanter's side as his team of strongest supporters made its way through the Gallows. Before they set foot outdoors, she was approached by Ella.

"I heard about what's going on. All the mages, even the apprentices, know by now," the younger girl said. "Should I come with you?"

Bethany was forced to admit to herself that she had no idea what lay in store for them once they left the Gallows. It was possible, if not likely, that appealing to Elthina to step in and help the mages would only further anger Meredith. While the threat of falling to the Knight-Commander's ire wasn't enough to stop her from standing with Orsino, she couldn't expect everyone else in the Circle to openly face the potential peril. "It's up to you."

"Will it be dangerous?"

"I don't know." Her friend's apprehension was palpable. She put her hands on Ella's shoulders and tried to keep her voice steady. "I won't think less of you if you stay behind. If for any reason we don't come back right away –"

"Don't say that!"

"Ella, listen. Just in case something happens, even if we're just detained by the Templars, get out of here."

Tears sprang to the young mage's eyes. "I can't! After what happened last time…."

"I know. And I know that I used to always decry those who snuck out because it reflected poorly on the rest of us." Bethany had been forced to question many of her previously held beliefs due to recent events. "But things are different now, and your highest priority has to be safety. If things look bad enough, you need to leave."

Ella nodded sadly. "I understand."

She hugged her friend one more time and followed Orsino out to the courtyard. The group of mages crossed into the city, arriving in Lowtown. They didn't get very far before Meredith and a number of her men caught up to them. The very presence of the Knight-Commander sent a chill down Bethany's spine, but she swallowed her trepidation and remained at her leader's side.

More vile accusations of blood magic spilled forth from Meredith's mouth. The First Enchanter continued his campaign of convincing her he harbored none of the corrupt mages, but his attempts were futile. In the midst of the argument, Garrett appeared, accompanied by his friends. Anders arrived just a moment later. "You came," Bethany whispered. Relief washed over her at the sight of her brother and she hoped he could dispel the tension simmering between everyone at the scene. She had known that Anders had not left Kirkwall, and the knowledge that he was still alive also offered her some comfort.

Meredith tried to send Garrett away, but he attempted to reason with both of them. "There must be some way we can work this out," he said.

She refused to listen to his pleas for solving the dispute peacefully. The fight raged on, and Orsino returned to his original plan of involving Elthina. Meredith grabbed his arm to stop him. Before either could make another move, Anders stepped forward. "The Grand Cleric cannot help you!" he declared.

Bethany could only watch helplessly as her lover blatantly defied both the Knight-Commander and the First Enchanter. She believed in everything he was saying, but she feared for his fate. His eyes flashed a brilliant shade of blue, and she gasped. _"Oh no, not now, not here…."_

"The time has come to act." Anders's voice was tinged with an unsettling darkness. "There can be no half-measures…there can be no turning back."

The ground rumbled beneath her feet. She kept her gaze trained on him, but his initial anger had passed, replaced by an eerie calmness. Everyone around them expressed surprise at the sudden tremors, yet his face showed no reaction to the movements.

A beam of light shot into the sky. Bethany looked away from Anders to stare upwards at the blinding flash. It was replaced by clouds of soot and debris as a deafening explosion made her cover her ears. Someone screamed, and she winced at the fine particles of dust that were raining down upon them.

His voice drew her attention back to him. This time, his words were spoken in his normal tone, though his sorrow was undeniable. "There can be no peace."

"_Maker, what have you done?"_ She watched, horrified, as both Orsino and Meredith turned on him. He had destroyed the Chantry, an unthinkable criminal act. Yet as she reeled from the shock of what she had just observed, she was startled at what her own introspection revealed. She understood. He had done what no one else was willing to do. He would incite the change they had all hoped for, even if it resulted from bloodshed.

Bethany didn't have long to contemplate the shadows she had uncovered in her own soul before Meredith issued a chilling command. "As Knight-Commander of Kirkwall, I hereby invoke the Right of Annulment! Every mage in the Circle is to be executed! Immediately!"

Hearing her own death sentence didn't send her into as much of a panicked state as she would have expected. She was devoid of outrage, fear, and grief; she was numb. Orsino tried to reason with Meredith, and turned to Garrett for help. The Champion tried to maintain his public neutrality, but it was no longer an option. He sighed, and looked at the terrified mages, his own sister among them. "I won't let her slaughter all of you," he stated quietly.

"I knew I could count on you," Bethany murmured.

The Knight-Commander's attempts to change his mind were futile, and she became more enraged. "Kill them all!" she ordered. Her men drew their weapons, and she disappeared down the alley to rally more support.

Orsino instructed the mages to return to the Circle, but Bethany was frozen in place. The long-awaited battle broke out, and the Templars charged at her brother. Some of the mages chose to stay behind and fight with the man who had defended their lives. She wanted to raise her staff, to lend her aid, but her limbs didn't listen to her commands. Time move achingly slowly, and she couldn't react to anything. All she could do was wait to see if his skills would grant him success when it mattered the most.

A look around showed her that Anders also hadn't joined the fight. He was sitting on a crate, seemingly unaware of the flurry of swords and magic that swirled around him in a brutal storm. She wanted to reach out to him, but even if she were able to cross through the skirmish unharmed, she didn't know what she would say.

The Templars were eventually slain, as were a number of mages who had fallen to their blades. Orsino thanked Garrett for his assistance and support and asked the warrior to meet him at the Gallows. He beckoned for Bethany and the others to follow him, but she was still unable to budge from her position.

She looked on as her brother approached Anders. They were too far away for her to hear every word of their conversation. When she saw Garrett pull his dagger from his belt, she stifled a scream, her hands flying to her mouth. Everything in her wanted to cry out and tell him to stop. She willed her feet to carry her over to them so she could beg her brother for mercy and stop another senseless death. As with everything else that had happened over the years, she was powerless to change a set course of events. _"Garrett, don't,"_ she silently pleaded. _"Don't…don't kill him…oh, Maker, please don't let him…."_

No one moved. All eyes were on Garrett as his companions waited to see what he would do. Whether it was something Anders had said, the value he placed on their friendship, or his own sense of righteousness, Bethany didn't know, but she exhaled quickly as she saw her brother return his blade to its proper place, unused.

Her body trembled and her knees grew weak. Just as her legs threatened to buckle beneath her and send her crashing to the ground, a hand took her arm, steadying her. "Bethany," Orsino said. "Come. We must return to the Gallows and prepare to defend the Circle."

She meekly trailed behind him, casting one last look back at her beloved. Anders had been spared, but for how long? Would either of them survive to see the next morning?


	34. Life and Death

Anders was alive. He wasn't sure how he felt about that unexpected turn of events. His crimes were planned and committed with the expectation that he would be executed for them. When the Knight-Commander didn't kill him on the spot, he was dumbfounded. Even after everything he had said to Orsino about the futility of the Circle, accompanied by some personal digs regarding the man's character, the First Enchanter had left his fate in the hands of the Champion.

One look at Garrett's face following the destruction of the Chantry left no doubts as to how furious he was. Anders chose not to participate in the fight against the Templars ordered to kill his friends, no longer taking command of his own destiny. Whatever happened now was not to be decided by him. He sat off to the side and waited for the battle to be over.

The warrior's boots scuffed against the ground as he approached. The apostate couldn't face him, and remained staring off into the distance. He answered whatever questions Garrett had truthfully, believing there was no explanation that would satisfy him. When he finished stating his causes, he heard the unmistakable metallic scrape of a blade being drawn.

Anders closed his eyes. The end had come. He was prepared. One last flash of pain, and it would all be over. Born a mage, he had been cursed to lead a miserable life, plagued by oppression and suffering. In agreeing to host a spirit, he had only increased his anguish. There had been one bright spot, one ray of sunshine, and he visualized the façade of the woman he'd longed to protect. Sinking into the cherished memories of Bethany, he waited for the final blow.

It never came. "Get up," Garrett said gruffly.

"…What?"

"Help me defend the mages."

"You're…you're not sending me away?"

Garrett sheathed his dagger. "You got us into this mess. You're going to redeem yourself and help get us out of it."

Anders wasn't going to argue. "I will. I'll fight the Templars with you."

The group made their way to the docks in order to join Orsino at the Gallows. Progress was difficult as chaos ruled supreme in Kirkwall once again. Templars were fighting mages in the streets, and the presence of blood magic was thick in the air. Shades and demons sprung up to block their way, but they pressed forward.

At the Gallows, the battle raged on. In the face of such rebellion, all Meredith did was laugh at Orsino. She granted him a short amount of time to prepare for the ultimate showdown, clearly not convinced that he and the mages posed much of a threat, even with the Champion on their side.

They raced up the stone steps. Once inside the indomitable structure, Anders immediately located Bethany and he broke into a run. This time, there was no one to stop him from throwing his arms around her and clutching her to his chest. He had never imagined he would have the opportunity to hold her again. Taking advantage of the sparse moments he had, he stroked her hair, listened to her breathe, and felt her hands on his waist. There was so much he felt he needed to say to her as war collapsed the city around them, but the prior discussion with Garrett had left him emotionally drained. "I'm sorry," was all he could muster.

She pulled away and stared up at him. He expected to see contempt or disgust in her eyes, but they were filled with the tender affection she had reserved for him, a sentiment he didn't feel he deserved. "Something was bound to happen eventually," she said. "I may not have used the same methods, but I understand. What was it you said – something about dying quickly now as opposed to a longer, more painful death later on?"

Her compassion was the greatest gift he had ever received. "Every time I think I'm beyond redemption, you try to persuade me that I'm wrong. I'm not worthy of your love."

"We don't have time to argue about that just now." Bethany stood on her toes and pressed her lips against his, a warm, sweet gesture that was enough to restore the hope he'd thought was forever lost. "I know you've been waiting a long time for this. You helped me realize that my magic wasn't a curse, and I'm determined to live the rest of my life without shame," she said, squeezing his hand. "Let's show them what we can do."

Her encouraging demeanor had returned. It was empowering. "I never dreamed that I had any hope of a future beyond tonight, or that you would be here to fight at my side. I'm not going to let them take that from us. Never again."

They rejoined Garrett and Orsino. The Templars would be descending upon them at any moment. Garrett took the opportunity to offer some last motivational words of wisdom, but it was difficult to judge his level of optimism. He had rallied all his companions, and had even been successful in convincing Fenris and Aveline to stand up against Meredith's quest for the Circle's destruction.

The first wave of armored attackers arrived. Anders raised his staff to prepare for the onslaught, his stance mirrored by Bethany. He fired a bolt of lightning at the closest Templar. Though he fell, another one immediately appeared to take his place.

The ongoing conflict between the mages and their oppressors had reached the bloody conclusion that no one had wanted but everyone had seen coming. The Templars were not the only ones to die, and each faction contributed to the number of dead that littered the area. During a lull in the battle, Orsino stopped and surveyed the damage, grimly shaking his head at the bodies of those whose care had been entrusted to him. "Look at it all," he said, mumbling to himself.

Bethany stepped towards him. "First Enchanter, we need you," she tried to remind him.

If her words reached him, he didn't show it. Cracks appeared in the mask of control he had maintained, his desperation starting to seep through. "I refuse to keep running. I won't wait for her to kill me." Anders glanced behind him, wondering if the elf's fraught ramblings were going to be interrupted by another slew of Templars. "Quentin's research was too evil, too dangerous," Orsino mused.

_"Quentin…."_ Anders recognized the name as belonging to the blood mage who had killed Leandra. Had Orsino known what the serial killer had been doing? He looked over at Garrett, whose eyes were wide in surprise. The same realization had set in. Anders started to say something, but the warrior cut him off with a raised hand, nodding towards Bethany. The younger Hawke had a tremendous amount of respect for the First Enchanter. He silently agreed it was better that she not know of his involvement.

Their efforts to protect Bethany from betrayal were in vain. "Meredith expects blood magic – then I will give it to her!" Orsino drew a dagger and raised it to his wrist.

"No!" Bethany screamed.

He dragged the blade across his flesh, spattering his robes with crimson droplets. "Maker help us all."

Bethany lunged forward in an attempt to stop him, but Anders caught her before she could get very close. It was too late. "Orsino!" she cried, struggling against the strong arms that held her in place.

A red haze swirled around Kirkwall's strongest mage. The bodies of his fallen brothers rose from the ground, dancing in a grotesque rhythm to the magic he had summoned. They merged with the First Enchanter who had succumbed to the forbidden temptation. The demon began to take shape, its multi-limbed form intimidating and repulsive. Orsino had become a harvester.

Anders felt Bethany shaking in his grasp. A new group of Meredith's men stormed in, their weapons at the ready. "They…they made him do this!" she said in a choked whisper.

"I know." He held her tight until she stopped quivering. "But it's not him anymore. We have to keep fighting now if we ever want to leave."

She straightened up and grabbed her staff. With a flick of her wrist, she launched a storm of flames at a clump of Templars. Her grief would have to wait.

The fight continued. Not only did they have to contend with their original enemy, but they had a new monster to worry about. Anders alternated between offensive spells and maintaining the health of his allies. Bethany, in turn, focused all her emotional turmoil into slaying those who had enslaved her. The battle was strenuous and took all the concentration and stamina they had. Liberation of the mages was no longer their only goal; they were fighting to survive.

Once the Templars who had been dispatched to eliminate them were dead, Garrett turned his attention to the harvester. The creature that had previously been the First Enchanter was weakened and stumbling about, but it still delivered dangerous attacks. At the first sign of weakness, the Champion leapt onto its body and assaulted its head. It screeched, and he pulled at its tongue. The struggle didn't last much longer as Garrett tore the harvester apart and stomped on the remains, spraying its blood and entrails across the courtyard.

Orsino was dead, as were many of the mages. Bethany looked upon the corpses, and Anders put a hand on the small of her back. "Ella's not here," she said flatly. "Thank the Maker for small miracles."

"I'm sorry you lost so many of your friends, least of all the First Enchanter."

Garrett finished wiping the viscera off his face. "I don't mean to interrupt, but we're not done here. Meredith is still waiting outside with an army of fresh Templars."

Bethany set her mouth in a straight line. "She drove him to this. It's time to make her pay for everything she's done."

They gathered the others, who had been blessed with similar fortune and still had their lives, and moved through the Gallows. Anyone who got in their way, Templar or demon, was slaughtered instantaneously. They were on a mission. The Knight-Commander would be stopped once and for all.

She stood at the bottom of the stairs in the courtyard, awaiting their arrival. When she claimed that Garrett would face the same fate as the mages, Knight-Captain Cullen stepped forward to question her decision. Their unlikely ally was rewarded for his efforts by a glowing red blade pointed in his direction. Anders heard Varric gasp behind him, and he realized where the sword had come from.

"You recognize it, do you not?" Meredith's lips twisted into a cruel smile. "Pure lyrium, taken from the Deep Roads."

How much of the Knight-Commander's madness and paranoia stemmed from her bigotry and how much came from the mind-altering idol would never be known. When Cullen condemned her orders and insisted she step down from her command, she accused the reputable Templar of having been tainted by blood magic. Without dignifying her with an outraged denial, he drew his own sword when she aimed her weapon at Garrett's throat. The final fight for freedom had come.

Anders knew the only way they would be allowed to live was to kill Meredith. She was the strongest foe they had ever faced, and her self-righteous fury was further fueled by the lyrium. Her attacks were punctuated with more of her crazed ranting, relentless in its vitriol. She displayed superhuman traits as the corruption seeped into her body. Much like Orsino, the woman had been replaced the monster she had once feared.

She leapt atop the steps to the Gallows, still brandishing the malevolent weapon. At her command, the statues that flanked the staircase came to life. Possessed by the magic she had hated so much, they descended onto the courtyard, prepared to demolish those who defied their master.

Anders watched in awe as the metallic replicas of the enslaved creaked and moved with determination. The reminder that he had a task to complete came in the form of a fireball exploding onto the nearest statue. He looked across the battlefield to see Bethany preparing another spell. He had come this far in trying to save her from Meredith's cruelty, and he needed to muster all his strength to follow through with his plans. They were going to win.

A blast of ice shot forth from his hands, encasing their nearest enemy in freezing cold crystals. Though it had been years since they had last fought together, he slipped back into the rhythm of sensing her every motion and complementing her spells with his own. Their elemental forces intertwined, creating a deadly effect for anything that dared enter the path of their magic. They were in complete control, their intimate connection bolstering the magnitude of their natural gifts.

When her minions had been defeated, Meredith jumped down to resume their fight. Garrett met her head-on, his weapon drawn and ready. Anders took care not to hit the experienced swordsman with his offensive spells, and was there to heal his friend whenever necessary. It didn't matter who delivered the final blow – all that mattered was stopping her reign of terror over the mages.

After a particularly punishing strike from Garrett's blade, the Knight-Commander stumbled backwards. "I will not be defeated!" she shrieked. Pointing the lyrium sword to the sky, she made one final plea to the Maker for the strength to prevail. The strain was too much on the illicit weapon and it shattered, coating her body with its toxicity.

Everyone present stopped moving. The lyrium had sucked the life out of Meredith. Her face was frozen in an open-mouthed scream, and her fists were clenched. Despite her foreboding appearance, she was no longer a threat. She was a statue, destined to be yet another reminder of the terror the citizens of Kirkwall once faced.

The remaining Templars stepped forward, encircling Garrett and his friends. Anders was prepared to slay them all, but Cullen appeared at the front of the group. After issuing a tacit command to his men with the slightest of gestures, they backed away. He wasn't going to deliver any punishments his superior had previously ordered.

A deathly silence settled upon the Gallows. Garrett looked around; his internal debate was apparent on his face as he took in the sight of the Templars, the prison where his sister had been kept, and the city he called home. Wordlessly, he spun around and walked towards the gates. Anders followed behind him without a single look back at the destruction and chaos they had caused.


	35. Sweet Escape

Bethany sat on the main deck of the ship, leaning on the wooden railing and dangling her feet off the side. Though she could no longer see the outline of Kirkwall in the distance, thick puffs of dark smoke marred the sky in the direction from which they had sailed. Somewhere behind her, Isabela was steering them away from the ruined city, maneuvering her boat through the choppy waves.

Remaining in Kirkwall had not been an option. The Circle was no more; she was an apostate once again. The fear of Templars would never truly vanish, but she felt better knowing that she was free from Meredith's ruthless authority. Where they were going was unknown. All that mattered was escape.

Orsino's submission to blood magic still stung. Bethany felt betrayed and disturbed by all she had witnessed. It was difficult to reconcile her last vision of him with the memory of the man she had trusted and admired. She grieved his loss and the ends by which it had come, as well as the lives of the others who had fallen in battle. She could only hope that the older mages, Ella among them, had successfully escaped and the younger apprentices would remain unharmed.

Upon reaching Isabela's ship, exhaustion had plagued her until she could barely stand up of her own accord. She had half-heartedly resisted the suggestions that she and the others should get some sleep, and eventually allowed herself to be led to one of the cabins below deck. Vaguely aware of Anders tucking some blankets around her, she drifted into a deep, dreamless slumber. The amount of time she was unconscious had not been told to her. When she woke up, she found herself alone, and had climbed up to the outer areas of the ship.

The salty air whipped her hair around her face, and she didn't hear her brother approach until he was right next to her. "How are you feeling?" Garrett asked.

"I'm…I'll be fine. I don't know if the shock from everything that happened has fully worn off yet."

He nodded. "I understand."

"And yourself?"

"Alive, so I can't complain."

Bethany stared out over the horizon, away from the murky clouds. "I guess we're just destined to never stay in one place for too long. I really thought Kirkwall would be our home for good."

"Just think of it as another adventure."

"Do you know where Isabela's taking us?"

"I thought it better not to ask for now." Garrett grinned at her. "Though I think I convinced her to let me take over the wheel for a while when she goes to get some rest."

He'd succeeded in making her laugh. "Maker help us, we're going to be shipwrecked."

"I'm touched by your confidence in me." He cast a look back to the center of the vessel. "And speaking of people resting, I think I heard some stirring from downstairs. Why don't you go check them out?"

"I don't…." She blushed. "I don't want to bother anyone…."

"Bethany, _go_. First mate's orders!"

She stood up and moved away from the railing. "You'll want the second room on your left!" he called after her.

The ship rocked beneath her in a steady rhythm as she arrived at her destination. Putting her ear to the door, she listened for signs of movement. Silence. Hesitating for a moment, she knocked softly. "Anders?"

The sounds of footsteps grew closer, and he opened the door for her. Without saying anything, he took a seat on the edge of the bed, staring at the wooden floorboards that swayed with the motion of the waves. She closed the door behind her and sat next to him. "I'm sorry if I woke you up," she said.

"I wasn't sleeping."

Bethany didn't know what to say. She had dreamed of their reunion for so long, but her fantasies had never involved these circumstances. "Is everything okay?"

"I really had no intentions of making it this far. I thought for sure that I would be punished for what I did, and I had made my peace with that. When Meredith didn't kill me, I thought that your brother would. It was what I deserved."

"That's not true!"

"Martyrs aren't supposed to live, Bethany," he said bitterly. "But I suppose it's fitting that I'll have to live with the guilt over what I did. Perhaps that's a worse punishment."

She shook her head. "You saved me! And so many of the others!" She tried to put her hand on his arm, but he recoiled from her touch. "We both know that it was only a matter of time before they destroyed us. I was counting down the days until they made me Tranquil or ordered my execution."

"I thought that I was doing a noble thing when I took Justice into my body," Anders said. "It soon became clear that I, a lowly apostate, was never going to be a hero. When I finally came to terms with that simple fact, I decided that if I couldn't be a hero, I would be a catalyst. It didn't matter if I saw how the events played out."

Bethany reached for him again. This time he didn't pull away. "Because of you, we can have what we wanted now. We're together, and we can stay together as we move forward."

"Being with me now is more dangerous than it ever was. There's no doubt that I will be hunted down for my crimes against the Chantry. I can't burden you with the consequences of what I did."

She leaned into him, praying she wouldn't have to suffer the heartache of losing him again. "You saved my life. Now it's my decision as to what I want to do with the rest of it." She trailed her fingers along his cheek, taking comfort that the stubble adorning his skin felt just as she had remembered it. The memories came to life, kindling the passion she had shared with him so long ago. Most of all, she remembered how she used to erase his anguish and temporarily free him from his worries. She kissed along the path her fingertips had forged. "I love you," she whispered in his ear. "And I choose to be with you."

Anders closed his eyes. She slid her hand around the back of his neck to hold him close as she pressed her lips against his, refusing to let him get away. He relented, and her tongue slipped inside his mouth, exploring the delectable recesses she had missed so much. Without breaking the kiss, she moved onto his lap, straddling him. He buried his fingers in the dark waves of her hair, drawing her even closer. There was no threat of discovery, no imminent danger, yet their long-awaited contact destroyed any semblance of patience they once had.

All clothing was discarded in their frenzied rush to rid themselves from the last of their obstacles. A heated flush spread through Bethany's body as her bare skin met that of her lover's. Still perched atop his thighs, she arched her back and gasped when he ducked his head down to catch a pert nipple between his teeth. She writhed against him, feeling him swell beneath her, and he only increased the pressure of his manipulations.

He leaned backwards, pulling her down with him. When he opened his eyes to gaze up at her, there were still traces of sorrow reflected in them. "Part of me can't believe you're really here," Anders said, reaching up to brush the hair out of her eyes. "I'm not wholly convinced I deserve this dream."

"I assure you I'm plenty real," she teased. Her efforts to lighten his spirits earned her a flash of the smile she adored. "I'll just have to prove it to you…."

She eased herself onto him slowly, basking in the thrilling sensation that rippled over her as soon as he was inside her. His body tensed as they were joined together at last, and he gripped the silken flesh of her hips. This had always been her favorite way to enjoy their carnal pleasures. Every vivid detail, every practiced motion, and every moment of clarity shattered the inefficiency of her memories. The sound of his quickened breathing and the ardor with which he laved attention on her were irreplaceable.

Anders's eyes closed again as he finally started down the path of losing himself to her love. He had fulfilled his promise to her, and she badly wanted to reciprocate with a gift of her own. With the second chance at life he had given her, she desired nothing more than to grant him his own freedom from the demons that had raged inside of him. She longed for that instance when his mind was purged from all that had tortured him for years. Restoring the hope that could light up his soul would be a long journey, but she knew that it was waiting for her to draw it out.

The deliberate undulations of her hips mimicked the roiling movements of the ship that brought them further away from their cursed past. They had taken the first step towards their new beginning, and it would be consummated with an epic climax that could be denied no longer. Bethany increased her pace, meeting each of his thrusts as he filled her with his unbridled masculinity. She impaled herself over and over, gasping aloud when he slammed into her with force. The ecstasy that had been simmering beneath her skin, stemming from her core, threatened to burst forth. One last look at the face of the man she loved was all that was needed. Every part of her body shook and spasmed, and he joined her with a white-hot orgasm of his own. Her name was upon his lips as he exploded inside her, and she knew she had succeeded in her goal.

She collapsed on top of his chest, panting heavily. Anders's arms were around her waist, holding her tight against him. Certain aspects of their future were uncertain. There was, however, no doubting the immeasurable strength of their love.


	36. A Pair of Epilogues

Waves lapped against the sandy shores mere yards away from where Isabela had dropped her anchor. Far off in the distance, buildings dotted the landscape, smoke from their chimneys casting smudges against the dimming blue skies. Anders wasn't sure where, precisely, they were. Their impromptu voyage hadn't given their captain the opportunity to chart their trip, but she had kept them safe as her vessel skimmed over the seas. He speculated that the land in sight was somewhere near the border of Antiva and Rivain. All that mattered was that it was far enough away that news of the events in Kirkwall hadn't spread there yet.

They had docked several times in the past fortnight. The purpose of their forays inland had been to procure additional supplies, but at each stop, they had lost more of their party. Garrett had stated that splitting up could be beneficial, as it would make them more difficult to trace should anyone be trying to track them down. The first to leave were Aveline and Donnic. The former guard captain had enjoyed the years spent at her post in the city, yet she looked forward to the opportunity to settle into a slower-paced routine in a quieter place. There were things she had missed out on with her first husband, and she was determined not to let the same chances slip her grasp a second time.

The elves left next. While their respective demeanors and beliefs were wildly different, they shared a common heritage. Whether or not they would stay together for very long, Anders didn't know. Despite his general dislike for Fenris, he knew the fierce warrior had a protective, caring side to him, and he wouldn't be surprised if he kept an eye on Merrill until he was sure she was properly situated in wherever they wound up.

Lastly was Varric. "I know you love to tell a good story, but maybe you should keep this one under wraps for a while," Garrett joked as they prepared to part ways.

"Sure. And when the time comes, I'll try not to embellish too much," said the dwarf.

"If you must, feel free to play up my dashing good looks and irresistible charms."

"You got it."

Other than the crew, all that remained on board the ship were the last of the Hawkes and those they loved. Isabela squinted at the scenic panorama. "I think I remember that village from my travels. Nice enough place. The local tavern's not half bad, either," she said.

"Drinks it is, then!" Garrett answered.

They disembarked and headed in the direction of the small hamlet. The surrounding forest was easy to navigate and radiated a sense of serenity. Though he was grateful to the pirate for all she had done, Anders knew deep down that a life on the open seas wasn't for him. However, his heart belonged to Bethany, and wherever she went, he would stay by her side.

"It feels so good to be back on solid ground!" Bethany commented as they approached their destination.

"What's the matter, sweetness? You don't like my boat?"

"Oh, no, it's not that!" She blushed. "Garrett knows I was never much of a traveler. It's a shame, really, considering how much moving around we've had to do for our whole lives."

As nightfall blanketed the settlement, the decision was made to rent a pair of rooms on the second floor of the cozy pub. Isabela was assured that she would find the necessary foodstuffs and other items they needed in the morning. She cheerfully disappeared behind one of the doors with Garrett, not to be seen again until sunrise.

Anders thought that sleep would come easy to him away from the constant motion of the ship on the waves. Moonlight streamed in the tiny window, and he found himself gazing upon the peacefully slumbering Bethany. Her nude body was curled against his, her head nestled against his shoulder. The illumination filled her hair with silvery streaks and cast an ethereal glow over her bared form. Such a scene was flawless in its composition, and he remembered how many nights he had lain awake dreaming of having her with him again, and how he had made the mistake of giving up.

Dawn encroached upon the entangled couple, and she stirred. He recalled how both of them had been forced to restart their lives on more than one occasion, but the prospect of a new beginning with her filled him with hope, not fear. If they had to keep running, at least they would be together. The only remaining question was the location of where they would reestablish themselves.

Bethany shifted in the bed and peered up at him through her thick lashes. He kissed her forehead, all while pondering what to say. Sensing that she desired the same things he did, he feared that her obligations to her brother would keep what she truly wanted from materializing. He didn't comment on the situation as they dressed for the day, choosing only to make idle small talk about the weather and whatever meal awaited them.

Their companions were waiting downstairs for them, having already completed their necessary tasks. "As soon as you're ready, we can head out," Isabela said.

Anders saw the disappointment on Bethany's face and decided to take his chance. "If you don't want to leave, we don't have to," he said, taking her hand.

"What are you talking about?" She glanced back at her brother. "We can't just stay here…."

"Why not? No one knows us here. There aren't any Templars to tear us apart. We may not be safe here indefinitely, but it's a start."

Garrett stepped forward. "It might not be a bad idea if the two most wanted criminals in Kirkwall went their separate ways for a while," he said with a smirk.

"I can't just leave you like that! You're the only family I have left."

"Bethany, you're my sister and I love you. Nothing will ever change that, even if we want different things. You've been blessed with the freedom to make your own choices now. I won't take it personally if you choose not to follow me around anymore."

She frowned. "But where will you go?"

"I don't know." He slipped an arm around Isabela's waist. "I figured I'd let someone else lead me around for a change. I doubt she'll even teach me how to steer the boat properly."

Anders rubbed his thumb over the top of Bethany's hand. "Whatever you decide, I will be right there with you."

She gave her brother one last questioning look. "Are you sure?"

"It's not like we'll never see each other again! You've been stuck with me long enough. It's about time you started building your own life!" His jovial expression disappeared in a rare moment of sincerity. "It's what Mother and Father would have wanted for you. It's what _I_ want for you."

She wrapped her arms around Garrett's shoulders in one last sisterly embrace. "We'll all find each other again eventually, right?"

"Of course."

Bethany released him and turned towards Isabela. "Try not to let him get into too much trouble," she instructed.

The pirate grinned. "Nothing I can't get us out of."

Anders hadn't expected the morning's focus to turn to a poignant farewell. "Stay safe, Hawke."

"I'd say the same, but I think that between the two of you, you have enough practice with dodging the Templars and defending yourselves against whatever trouble may spring up."

Bethany returned to the mage's side, lacing her fingers through his again. "We'll be fine. We have each other."

* * *

The small wooden house at the edge of the town was partially obscured by thick, leafy branches from the neighboring forest. In the past months, it had been transformed into a modest, yet comfortable home. Life was simple in whatever remote territory they inhabited, but Bethany had everything she wanted.

Rumors of the chaos and war that wreaked havoc on the more heavily populated areas of Thedas came by way of travelers and merchants who passed through the village. The residents had yet to experience any of the danger first hand. Whether or not it would reach them remained to be seen. While she was content with the life they had carved out for themselves, she had accepted that they had to be ready to move on at a moment's notice. Change was upon their world. Until the results had been determined, some things would remain the same.

Regardless of the unrest across the land, Bethany was confident that their future would be fulfilling and graced with happiness. She knew that not every moment spent with Anders would be easy and perfect, but they were strong enough to handle anything they faced. Their feelings for each other had passed a multitude of tests. No force would be more powerful than the love that bound them together.

* * *

_**AN:**_ Whew, finally done! Big huge thanks to everyone who's been following along, and to those who have taken the time to give me feedback. This was a fun project! I don't know if I'll ever write a fanfic of this size again, but there _will_ be at least a few more stories from me in the future! Thanks again!


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